


Hahaha - A Batfamily Fanfiction

by What_Are_Names_Anyways



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Eventual Proposal, Family Bonding, Fluff and Angst, Minor Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Minor Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 44,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24888220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_Are_Names_Anyways/pseuds/What_Are_Names_Anyways
Summary: “Clown masks.” Roy whispers when Jason has walked away. He locks his quivering fingers around Bruce’s wrist to keep his attention. “They were wearing clown masks.” He repeats, and Bruce nods to make sure Roy’s drug-addled mind knows he understands. “I-I don’t want to tell him unless we’re sure, okay? Please make sure first.” Roy adds on, letting go of Bruce. Bruce nods at him again. Roy’s a good kid, really good. Even dosed on heroin, with a broken leg and a cracked collarbone, he’s thinking of Jason.
Relationships: Dinah Lance/Oliver Queen, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 27
Kudos: 145





	1. Prologue

“Clown masks.” Roy whispers when Jason has walked away. He locks his quivering fingers around Bruce’s wrist to keep his attention. “They were wearing clown masks.” He repeats, and Bruce nods to make sure Roy’s drug-addled mind knows he understands. “I-I don’t want to tell him unless we’re sure, okay? Please make sure first.” Roy adds on, letting go of Bruce. Bruce nods at him again. Roy’s a good kid, really good. Even dosed on heroin, with a broken leg and a cracked collarbone, he’s thinking of Jason.

The thought of the Joker being behind this makes Bruce’s stomach drop. It makes sense, and he hates that now he knows about the masks he knows it can be no other villain. Plenty of crooks are pretty sophisticated, especially in Gotham, but no one other than the Joker would have the resources and patience to pull this off. Arsenal hasn’t made a huge dent in Gotham. Yes, he has made the Red Hood a whole lot stronger, but as an individual, as a civilian... He hasn’t attracted much attention. That wouldn’t matter to the Joker though. As horrifying as it is, Bruce doesn’t doubt that the Joker is aware of who the Red Hood and his partner are under their masks, and with his delight in torturing Jason Todd, it’s no surprise he’d go after Roy.

This new information is what makes Bruce call Oliver himself. He was going to have Alfred do it, have the butler simply inform Ollie of his son’s injuries… But now? Bruce needs to have Green Arrow and his own allies fully aware and in Gotham as fast as possible.


	2. Bruce

“How is he?” Oliver Queen’s voice cuts over Alfred’s introduction of his presence in the cave. Bruce tugs his cowl away from his face and turns to his fellow hero. Clearly Oliver rushed over the moment he got Bruce’s message, he’s in sweats, his hair is a mess, and he’s carrying his bow against his hip despite the civilian attire.

Bruce points towards the med bay once Oliver is close enough to look past the curtains, but before he can rush over, Alfred is interrupting. “I recommend you let him sleep, Mr. Queen. He was in much pain, and Dr. Thompkins gave us quite the regiment of medications to help him rest.” Alfred explains, his voice kind but also stern. Clearly, in Alfred’s mind, Roy is just as much one of their own as Dick or Jason, and deserves the same amount of scathing protection from the butler.

“What happened? What _exactly_ happened?” Oliver asks in a low, angry tone. His eyes are stuck on Roy’s medical bed. The younger archer is asleep on his back. Dick, sitting in a chair at the edge of the bed has his arms and head pillowed on the mattress, having fallen asleep during his vigil over his friend. Jason wouldn’t leave Roy’s side until someone else who knew Roy well was there, luckily Dick’s presence had been enough of a nudge to make him go and rest before Oliver arrived.

“I believe it was the Joker.” Bruce admits. At this point it’s not just a belief, he’s confident in it, and Oliver immediately calls him out on his word choice.

“Nuh-uh, big B-Man! Believe or _know?”_ Oliver questions, jabbing a finger in Bruce’s face.

“I know.” Bruce resigns. “Roy explained he was captured by men in clown masks. I deduced from his information that it would make the most sense for the Joker to be behind the kidnapping. Robin and Red Robin investigated further, apparently the criminal underground in Gotham has noticed signs of the Joker’s men in Crime Alley for several days now. Crime Alley is where Arsenal and Red Hood do most of their business. Additionally, Jim Gordon informed Robin that two of his own officers had been gunned down in Crime Alley by clown-masked men. Only one of them survived to explain what happened.”

Oliver breathes out shakily, and collapses back into the massive chair in front of the Bat-Computer. He lets his face fall into his hands. Alfred looks between them, then moves to stand a little closer to Oliver, perhaps ready to try and stop an outburst or help the man through a breakdown.

“What did they do to him?” Oliver asks after a long pause.

Bruce crosses his arms over his chest. “His physical injuries likely came from the struggle when they kidnapped him. He has defensive wounds on his hands, and rope burn on his wrists and ankles from being tied. His left tibia is broken, and his collarbone cracked. His and Jason’s apartment is three stories up, I think the broken bones could have come from a last-ditch effort to jump out a window and escape his attackers.” Bruce spares no details. He knows Oliver has to hear it all, and would be angry if he wasn’t given all the information.

“Thank God Lian was with Dinah and I.” Oliver murmurs. Bruce nods at that. A part of him is surprised though. It seems like the Joker to take the opportunity to hurt both Jason’s boyfriend and sort-of-daughter… Oliver turns back to Bruce, breaking his train of thought. “What did they do when they had him?” Oliver asks.

“Beat him. Expectedly.” Bruce comments, then he lets out a shuddering sigh “They gave him heroin. Oliver, I’m sorry. I don’t know how they could have known.”

The blood drains from Oliver’s face, and his expression twitches between sickly calm and deadly angry. He clenches and unclenches his fists. Bruce is glad Jason and his other children aren't downstairs when Oliver can no longer keep a semblance of calm and lets out a guttural roar. Alfred jumps back as Oliver stands and flings the heavy computer chair away with an impressive amount of strength. Bruce doesn’t flinch when a platter filled with empty coffee mugs meets its shattering end on the floor. The computer monitor with its impressive screen survives when Oliver punches it, but the skin on his knuckles splits and when he tries to shake away the sting his blood splatters on the floor.

Dick has stood up from his place next to Roy’s bed, but besides sparing a glance to see what’s going on, his focus stays on his friend. He takes Roy’s hand in his and squeezes it as the noise pulls the young archer from his drug-induced sleep with a pained moan. Roy looks around with half-lidded eyes, first focusing on Dick and mumbling something that Dick shakes his head at, then noticing the others in the room and groaning out “Ollie?”

“I’m here, Roy.” Oliver rushes to his side, barely waiting for Dick to get out of the way. “I’m here kid. It’s going to be fine.” He sits in the chair Dick was using and takes one of Roy’s hands in both of his. He presses his lips to Roy’s knuckles gently, taking in the bandages all over his son’s body and the new marks over the scars on his inner arm.

Bruce, Alfred, and Dick keep back, giving Oliver and Roy their space. Bruce knows for a fact that Oliver is _never_ this affectionate with Roy. He loves him, sure, but there’s a lot of anger between them as well. Roy looks about as confused as Bruce would expect him to be, but he’s also too tired to protest or do anything other than enjoy the affection.

“He’s been clean for six years.” Dick whispers, leaning against the railing surrounding the computer platform. Bruce looks at his oldest son. Dick’s hanging loose against the railing like it’s the only thing keeping him standing, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, and tearing at his fingers where they are clasped in front of him. Bruce isn’t sure how to help, he wants to stop Dick’s anxious mumbling and fidgeting, but he knows that won’t do any good. So instead he just shakes his head in frustrated agreement at the unfairness of it all and finds a point of the cave wall to glare at.

Alfred breaks the quiet hum of Dick and Oliver’s mumbling with a sigh. The butler has been kneeling and picking up the bigger shards of coffee cup since Oliver went to Roy, and now stands with a platter filled with porcelain bits. “Well, Masters Bruce and Richard.” He says, gaining both of their attention. Alfred looks at his watch. “It’s nearly 8 am. I know I will not be convincing either of you to rest any time soon, but perhaps you would like to eat breakfast upstairs? Inform the family of the situation?” The last sentence is rather tacked on, Alfred’s extra little convincing nudge of ‘business’ being allowed in the Manor.

Dick pushes himself away from the railing and takes the platter from Alfred’s hands. “I’ll wake Jason up, if he isn’t already.” He says, then heads for the stairs. Alfred dusts his hands off by brushing them against each other, then levels Bruce with a stern look when he doesn’t join Dick right away. Bruce sighs. “Oliver?” He calls, not getting even a glance in response, but he anticipated that. “I expect you want to stay here with Roy, so I’ll have Alfred or one of the kids bring you something to eat and drink soon… Alright?” Oliver gives him a shrug when he finishes talking, so Bruce considers that a yes and goes to leave the cave.

Somewhat expectedly, a few things are broken when Bruce says the Joker is behind what happened to Roy. What is unexpected is that Jason isn’t the only one causing destruction. 

Jason starts the series of reactions by standing and sweeping his plate and glass off the table, they fall and shatter on the floor, the contents of them spilling everywhere. Barbara pounds the table with a fist hard enough that her glass tips and spills orange juice in Damian’s direction. Damian himself snarls and bends his fork in his hand before crossing his skinny little arms over his chest and scowling at the spilled juice making its way towards him.

Jason storms off without even apologizing to Alfred for the mess. Dick stands to follow him, but before he can Tim is already up and jogging down the hall after his older brother. Bruce can hear Jason’s voice rise in a sharp _“Fuck off!”_ and then he hears Tim’s voice rise to meet it. Bruce can’t make out what Tim’s said, but given that Jason doesn’t shout anymore expletives, Tim has probably managed to appease him for the moment.

Cass shuffles closer to Duke for refuge from the shouting and breaking dishes and he curls a gentle arm around her shoulders. “Roy… He was sober, right?” Duke asks tentatively. Bruce can tell he feels out of place right about now, and the temptation to reassure him is there, but there’s no time for it. “Yes. He was.” Bruce says. “Six years sober, according to Dick.”

“That’s… That’s fucking bullshit, man.” Duke manages after a long silence, shaking his head. Barbara shoves her wheelchair away from the table. “Babs?” Dick asks, tentatively. She levels him with a glare and then turns the same look on Bruce. “I’m going to the police station. My dad will know _something.”_ She seethes. Bruce just nods. She’s not wrong, Gordon had information for them last night and he probably has more than he was willing to offer Robin when it was only the boy asking. 

“Ms. Cassandra.” Alfred says, staring at the mess Jason created. He holds a plate heavy with food out to Cass. “Bring this to Mr. Queen, would you? He’ll need something to eat soon, I’m sure.” Cassandra nods and walks over to take the plate from him. Duke looks around nervously as she leaves the room, torn between staying and following her, but Alfred saves him from the choice by breaking the silence again. 

“Masters Duke and Damian.” Alfred says, stern tone getting all their attention. “I’ve taken the liberty of informing your schools you will be absent today. I know you’re all itching to run out the door and find today’s foe, but if you’d please help me tidy up here, It would be greatly appreciated.” Alfred turns on his heel and heads into the kitchen at the end of his order, making it clear he expects the answer to be ‘yes.’

Damian storms out in response to the directions, tossing his bent fork to the floor in an aggressively Jason-like manner. Duke winces when the silverware hits the carpet, but nevertheless stands to clear the dishes. Dick helps as well, despite not being one of the boys Alfred ordered around.

Selina stands from her seat at the table and comes to Bruce’s side. He feels himself relax slightly when her fingers work their way into his clenched fist. Bruce doesn’t turn to look at her, just keeps his gaze focused on the window and the trees moving in the wind outside. “What can I do?” Selina asks, gently squeezing his hand. “How do I help you?”

Bruce shakes his head. “Everyone has been informed. Stephanie and Harper have promised to be cautious and stay here for the time being if they notice anything suspicious. Dinah has Lian in Star City, as far and as safe from here as possible…” Bruce trails off. He doesn’t really know what to do. Investigate. Put the Joker behind bars. Yes, of course, but at this instant? The beginning of the day with his family in turmoil around him? He’s a little lost. 

“Let’s make a house call, hmm? Not so odd for Bruce Wayne to go visiting Gotham's good citizens, now is it?” Selina encourages him. Bruce _had_ wanted to go straight to Roy and Jason’s apartment and investigate last night, but he knew in the long run using the information Jason had already gathered and relayed to him would mean finding and saving Roy quicker. Bruce sighs and squeezes Selina’s hand back. “Sounds good.”


	3. Bruce

Bringing Damian along had not been a part of the plan, but when Bruce walks out to the car and finds him already inside it, he realizes it isn’t a fight he wants to have, nor is it an argument he would win. Selina has given up the passenger seat to his youngest son, and sits in the backseat with her long legs crossed. She smiles at Bruce when he climbs into the driver’s seat, and he feels the strong squeeze of affection around his heart when their eyes meet. 

Bruce isn’t terribly surprised to see police tape over the apartment door. He’s also not surprised when Damian rips it away without a second thought and lets himself into the unlocked apartment. Damian lifts the camera he ‘borrowed’ from Tim off of his chest and starts taking pictures. Bruce and Selina look around themselves, though she stays close to the door to keep an ear and eye out for anyone in the hallway. Looking around Jason and Roy’s apartment, it’s obvious that a struggle happened here. Jason is a bit of a neat freak. He’d never let things get tossed around and dirty the way they are, not to mention the arrows scattered across the floor and the way the couch has been angled.

Damian heads down a small hallway to where Bruce remembers the bedrooms and bathroom being, and Bruce continues to look around the connected kitchen and living room. He hasn’t been here in… He doesn’t even know. He hasn’t been here as _Bruce_ , he realizes after a moment. He’s been here as Batman. Roy had found him, all suited up and injured and out of range of the Batmobile. Roy took him inside without hesitation and patched him up. Unfortunately for his current need to know the layout of his son’s home, Batman’s focus that night had been on the gunshot wound through his leg, not his son’s apartment.

Bruce tentatively opens a cupboard, and finds it packed with food. Jason’s doing, he’s sure. Roy would eat as badly as Dick if Jason weren’t around. Under different circumstances, Bruce would smile at the memory of Roy teasingly calling Jason “his domestic god” and getting pushed off of one of the Batcave’s platforms for the remark. 

“Father!” Damian calls. Bruce closes the cabinet a little harder than he means to and hurries in the direction of Damian’s voice. His son is standing in Jason and Roy’s room. Damian points from the broken window to the bed. “They must have ambushed him while he slept. They were stealthy, because he didn’t have the time to open the drawers looking for a weapon.” Damian explains, opening a drawer of the bedside cabinet himself to reveal there was a gun inside it. 

Bruce nods, letting Damian take the lead in investigating. Once again, Bruce finds himself thinking he’d be feeling very differently, very proud of Damian’s talents, if it weren’t for the circumstances. Damian points to how the blanket is twisted around and half-off the bed. “Roy slept on the side by the window. When the window broke, he rolled to the other side and off the bed. I’m sure he beat his attackers out of the room.” Damian says the last sentence a little scathingly, and Bruce debates whether he’s saying that Roy _better have_ been fast enough to get out first, or if he’s just angry because Roy was attacked and running at all.

Damian steps around Bruce and out of the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to take another picture before going all the way into the hall. Damian’s sharp eyes survey the flipped corner of the rug in the hallway and the dent in the wall a few feet away. “He must have tripped here, and caught himself on the wall.” Damian comments, stepping over the rug to avoid disturbing the evidence. He pauses in front of the open door to Lian’s bedroom and glances in, Bruce looking over his head. The room looks undisturbed. 

Damian looks up at his father. “Who opened it? The police or Harper?” Damian asks. Bruce considers this for a moment. Lian was out of the apartment for the weekend, and Jason was on patrol, surely Roy knew these things… But with the adrenaline rush he probably would check just in case. “Roy, probably. He’s a father. It would be instinct to check for Lian.” Bruce gives his input, and is responded to with a disapproving “tt” from Damian. His son takes a photo of the open doorway and Lian’s bedroom, then turns and goes out into the adjoined living room and kitchen.

“Kyle?” Damian asks. Bruce has the slight temptation to scold him for calling Selina that, but her easy response makes him decide not to bother. Selina straightens up from where she was leaning against the wall and looks at Damian attentively. “The lock, does it look dented or scraped? Was it picked?” He asks. She opens the door once again and leans into the hallway to look at the outer knob. Selina bites her bottom lip, then steps back into the apartment and nods in confirmation. 

“It was coordinated, surely.” Damian concludes, taking another photo. “A few came in the front and a few in the back.” He looks around the apartment some more. Then approaches the TV table and tilts his head at it. There’s blood on one of the wooden corners, and more smeared on the wooden floor beside it. “A head wound.” Bruce comments, pulling a swab and plastic bag from his pocket to collect a sample of it. “From the amount of blood.” Damian agrees with his reasoning. “Harper didn’t have one, so this is where they caught up to him and he fought back.” 

A wooden box had been pulled out from under the TV stand. It’s carved rather nicely, the lid of it is sitting open and resting against the table. The form molding inside it is clearly meant to fit a bow and quiver. Arrows are scattered around the box, and the bow is gone. Bruce frowns. There’s no way of knowing how many arrows Roy managed to grab to defend himself with. “The couch is moved.” Selina comments, pointing a painted nail at it. “I’m betting someone knocked into him from behind once he got the bow, and sent him into the couch.”

Selina turns and looks at the wall behind her. “There’s a blood spatter here. He got at least two hits in before realizing he had to flee.” She continues her own detective work. Damian walks over to look at the small ‘hall’ created by the kitchen set up – stove, fridge, sink – and the island with bar stools set up against it. Bruce stands up from his place by the TV stand, he tucks the blood sample he’d collected from the stand into his pocket and heads for the wall to collect one from that blood spatter as well. He pauses, assessing the height of the spatter in comparison to his own body to see where Roy’s arrow landed.

“Damian.” Bruce says, earning an annoyed glance as he interrupts Damian’s thought process. “Contact Tim and have him check the hospitals for patients who came in last night with a head or stomach wound.” He instructs him. Damian still looks annoyed, but he does pull out his phone and send Tim the message. “It’s a long shot, Father. Wouldn’t Joker just put down his injured men?” Damian counters. If Bruce were standing close enough he’d smack him over the head for the observation. His son makes a point, yes, but one Bruce had already thought of it and decided long-shot or no, he was leaving no rock unturned.

Another shattered window sits at the end of the hallway formed by the kitchen and adjacent island. “Explains why the cupboards are open.” Bruce comments. The cupboards were opened and things yanked out of them and thrown back in Roy’s last ditch effort to slow down his attackers. There is blood underneath the window, and Bruce pauses to collect a sample of it. “Tt.” Damian says from his place behind his father. “Did he cut himself on the glass?” He says in a disapproving tone. Bruce remembers that Jason said the attackers had changed Roy’s clothes. “He went to bed in grey sweatpants and black boxers.” Jason had commented when they found his boyfriend wearing purple instead. Bruce narrowly avoids snapping the swab between his fingers, angry at himself for not noticing that sign right away. Purple is one of the Joker’s colors… 

“Yes, Damian. I’m sure he cut himself, he broke the window by throwing himself through it.” Bruce retorts sternly once he’s finished debating with his own thoughts. Pulling away the plastic sheet the cops put over the window. He looks through the frame and down to the alley. Three stories isn’t a short drop. Bruce swallows hard, there is a narrow set of stairs crawling up to the second story beneath the window, Roy probably hit that first. It would have hurt worse to hit the stairs and then the concrete, but Bruce is sure the stairs breaking Roy’s fall saved him from any life-threatening injuries. 

Bruce moves so that Damian can peak out the window himself, and stick the camera out to take a photo. “Joker probably had someone down there waiting for him.” Damian spits, anger tightening his voice. Bruce just has to nod in agreement, pressing on the tape for the sheet so it will stay over the window again. This was a _very_ well laid attack. Bruce agrees internally. At this point in their investigation Bruce figures that Joker was aware Lian was gone. He probably wanted to avoid that extra trip-up. When they’d found Roy the state of him and his wounds showed that Joker had taken him early in the night, not long after Jason would have left. That meant he’d know when Jason would leave for patrol and when Roy would go to sleep. He’d been watching them for at least a few days, and Bruce _had not known._

Bruce clenches his fists, fighting the urge to want to break something. His chest burns with a sense of disappointment and self-loathing. “Hey.” Selina says, walking over to him, Damian taking her place at the door. “This is not your fault.” She tells him rather sternly. “I know you’re telling yourself that you should have known, should have kept an eye on them, but you know what?” Selina takes Bruce’s face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

“ _Shit happens._ Bruce.” She continues. “Jason and Roy wanted space. Giving them space was making your bond with Jason better. He’s an adult, he can take care of himself. You should know, you trained him. You trained all of them. The Joker is the Joker, he could have tried this with any of your Bats. It just hurts that it was Jason.” She doesn’t explain why Jason is more painful. It’s obvious. The images of it are flashing through Bruce’s mind now. Lifting Jason’s broken body from the ashes of that explosion, the Joker’s laughter echoing in his mind.

“Father.” Damian’s voice cuts through Bruce’s flashback. “Drake got a hit. A man with an _arrow in his stomach_ was dropped off at Gotham General at 2 am last night.” Damian reads off the information from his phone. Then taps something back to Tim. Apparently Tim responds at lightning speed, because Damian is immediately wrinkling his nose at whatever else Tim sends. The response is likely to annoy him and nothing else, it’s not evidence-related, because Damian tucks his phone in his pocket and looks back to his father. 

“Selina, if you could call in anonymously and say the man’s related to the Joker.” The sentence is phrased like a question, but Bruce says it in a tone that makes it more of an order. Selina would normally be annoyed by this voice, but for now she takes it in stride. “Ooh? You want  _ me  _ calling the police?” She teases as she and Damian follow Bruce out of the apartment. “That’s some trust, Bat.” She adds as she raises the phone to her ear. 

Selina puts on a performance for the operator, pushing her voice up an octave and making it crack every few words. Bruce opens the car door for her while she tells the operator rather desperately that she just _knows_ that the man in the hospital is connected to the Joker somehow! Damian glowers at Bruce as Bruce gives Selina access to the passenger seat and not him, but doesn’t say anything as he climbs into the back seat. Just pulls out his phone and starts texting something. He’s not scowling at the screen too hard, so Bruce can deduce he’s _not_ messaging Tim.

Selina slides the phone up onto the dash several minutes into the drive back to the Manor. She wipes a hand under one of her eyes to dry faux tears. “Well, Operator Katherine swears she’ll get Jim Gordon himself on the case!” She announces proudly. Bruce takes a hand off the steering wheel to give her knee a quick squeeze before refocusing on driving. 

“Tt.” Damian scolds from the back seat. “Gordon would be on the case the moment he heard the word ‘Joker.”’ Selina turns around in her seat to glare at him, and Bruce watches via the rearview mirror – rather impressed – as Damian actually sinks a little under her glare. “Well that’s a good thing, now isn’t it young man?” Selina tells him. “Gotham needs at least  _ one  _ good cop. After all, everyone knows corrupt cops are much less fun to toy with” Selina turns to sit straight again, crossing her legs up on the dash. The temptation to tell her how much this car costs is there, but Bruce would prefer to keep her firmly on his side today. 

They pull up to the Manor to Jason and Tim sitting on the steps. Jason glares right through the car’s slightly tinted windows and at Bruce, while Tim glances between the vehicle and his brother. Selina touches Bruce’s arm as he puts the car in park and pulls the keys. “Hey. If Jason tries to gut you, let me do the talking.” She advises. Bruce shakes his head a little. Jason being angry at him is one thing, but he doesn’t want to add Selina to the list of people Jason is ready to dig into at any moment. 

Jason and Tim stand as Bruce, Selina, and Damian exit the car. “You went to my house.” Jason comments. His tone isn’t as scathing as Bruce expected, in fact, it’s more tired and frustrated than anything. Bruce can’t help but wonder if Jason slept at all last night, it wouldn’t have been much, Dick didn’t show up soon enough to offer him more than a few hours break, but it seems like Jason didn’t even sleep that long.

“I told him, when Damian texted.” Tim explains before Bruce can ask. Tim steps a little closer to Jason, and Bruce hopes this won’t turn into an argument. He can’t see a fight going well with both Tim and Jason against him. Bruce just relents then, because he supposes Jason’s accusatory tone isn’t totally undeserved. 

“I apologize for not telling you we were going to investigate. Selina suggested using civilian identities, and I agreed we could avoid attention doing so.” Bruce says. He tries not to feel too hurt by the utter shock on Jason’s face as he listens to Bruce’s apology. Jason’s expression snaps from shock to some version of upset again far faster than Bruce would like. “You really think Joker would be deterred by _Brucie Wayne?”_ He growls. 

Selina steps up, a hand on Bruce’s arm to help keep him calm. “Jason. Joker will notice either way, you know that. I figured at least like this we could avoid the ‘why’s the Bat out during the day’ questions.” She explains. Bruce gets the feeling that thought already crossed Jason’s mind, but Jason is who he is, when he’s upset he picks fights. That fact is  _ especially  _ true when it comes to his and Bruce’s interactions. Jason frowns at Selina, a little annoyed with her well-made point, but then deflates slightly. He looks younger that way, when he’s not scowling or narrowing his eyes. 

Jason’s body language is plenty an invitation for Selina to head up the stairs to him and Tim. Damian seemed to be enjoying the show more than anything, but now that the tension has dissipated he brings his fingers to his lips and whistles for Titus and Ace. Apparently needing the added entertainment of his dogs versus watching his family hold a civilized conversation. “How is he?” Selina asks, resting a hand on Jason’s shoulder and ignoring the fact that he flinches before sort-of relaxing into her touch.

Jason shrugs, dislodging Selina’s hand. “He’s okay, still asleep.” Tim answers the question for him. “Oliver is still with him, but Alfred’s trying to convince him to take a break and let Dick or someone else watch him.” Tim continues. Bruce studies Jason’s expression as Tim explains Roy’s state. Jason is clearly upset, but it’s not so much angry as it is purely distressed. He’s chewing on his bottom lip a little, hands twisting back and forth at his sides like he’s looking for a gun to pull from its holster. It takes him a while to notice Bruce’s eyes on him, but when he does he doesn’t hold Bruce’s gaze like he normally would, he doesn’t challenge Bruce at all. Instead he just spins on his heel and heads for the Manor’s doors. “I’m going to make Oliver eff’ off.” Jason tosses over his shoulder. 

Tim and Selina watch Jason go. Damian has headed off into the yard with Titus and Ace, his voice carrying back to them as he gives the dogs various instructions. “You’ve been with him all morning?” Bruce asks his middle-child. Tim nods. “Uh, yeah. I could tell he shouldn’t be alone.” Tim says it very matter-of-factly. His tone clearly saying _of course I took care of my brother, who do you think I am?_

“Has he gone to see Roy?” Selina asks. Tim blinks, looks at his feet, then shakes his head. He looks like he’s giving up some big secret. “Jason feels bad. Like really bad. So bad he _cried._ I think he believes he brought this onto Roy, like the Joker didn’t finish his job with Jason and now he’s going to hurt Roy because of it.” Tim trails off, and they all find different places to look. Tim’s words are scary, because his and Jason’s ideas are not wrong. The Joker likely does see Jason coming back as a failure on his part, a wrong to be set right by hurting the poor boy even more. And what better way to hurt him than to exploit those most important to Jason? _Especially_ someone important to Jason who _isn’t_ a Bat. For The Joker’s twisted mind, Roy is probably some fun splash of variety. He’s not under the Bat’s wing, Bruce would of course protect Roy if necessary, but he doesn’t watch him like he does his children. An _easy_ and _fun_ target. That's what The Joker saw in Roy Harper.


	4. Bruce

It takes Bruce much longer to make his way down to the Batcave than he’d like to admit. In fact, he’s kept out of it until dinner time. Tim and Barbara assure him they’re hot on the trail of Joker and both seem annoyed when he interrupts them on their way to the cave. Alfred withholds a cup of coffee despite that fact that it would be only Bruce’s second on the day. Selina pesters him with the idea of a nap, and he’s pretty sure Duke is acting when he yawns twenty or so times around Bruce in an effort to draw one from Bruce himself. Bruce has to begrudgingly admit that his family’s efforts wear him down, and he eventually gives in. He sets an alarm to keep his nap short, feeling a certain level of disbelief with himself that he’s actually taking  _ a nap  _ when the Joker is out there. Alfred the Cat crawls onto the bed and plops himself right on the center of Bruce’s chest, and Selina curls close to him, the combination of hers and the cats warmth eventually lulling him to sleep. 

Bruce eats his dinner in the Cave, in his suit, refusing to waste anymore time. Alfred is clearly unhappy to be delivering his food to him in the cave, but waking up a sleep-mussed Jason to tell him to eat does put a smile on Alfred’s face. Tim had assured Bruce when they’d crossed paths on the stairs into the cave that he’d gotten ‘all the pictures’ and while Bruce was at first confused by that, he understood when he peeked into the med-bay. Jason was somehow balancing on the very edge of Roy’s hospital bed, one of his arms wrapped very delicately around Roy’s waist, and their heads leaned together. Both were fast asleep, Roy’s shaky breathing from earlier seemingly evening out from the comfort of Jason’s presence. Bruce left them alone, but decided he’d need to ask Tim for a few photos.

Jason sits with Bruce at the computer after Alfred wakes him. Jason pokes his food around with his fork and refuses to meet Bruce’s eyes, but Bruce is just grateful Jason actually _sat_ with him at all. Even if it’s tense, it’s an improvement on their usual version of working together. Bruce does his best to move slow and act casual, and not look at Jason too much. Instead he focuses on the information Tim and Barbara pulled together. 

Clearly Tim and Babs either hacked the police database, or Jim Gordon went sweet on his daughter. Looking through the files, Bruce sort of figures the former. There are a few eyewitness reports of the supposed ‘burglary.’ Only one from inside the apartment building itself, which doesn’t surprise Bruce too much. Roy and Jason live about as close to Crime Alley as they can, it’s no shock that the people there don’t trust cops too much. “I left at 10:30.” Jason comments as he reads one of the reports. “This person reports a crash at around 11, and a second shortly after.” 

Bruce grunts in response to that, pulling up another report from the person who called in the incident. This report is from someone who claims to have been walking by when they heard a window break and saw someone fall. They say it was too dark to recognize the person or their attackers, but that the victim – Roy – fell from a window a ways up and hit a staircase on the way down. According to the report, he was trying to move almost immediately, and was making sounds like he was in pain, he had something big in his hands. His bow, Bruce is sure. There had been a van parked in the alley, the report continues, and when the victim started moving several figures jumped from it and grabbed him. Apparently that final struggle was short, but Bruce isn’t surprised by that, Roy would have been in bad shape at that point. Likely too hurt to put up much of a fight.

The chair beside Bruce creaks as Jason sits back in it and scrubs a hand over his face. If he were younger, still Robin, Bruce would be scolding him about needing to eat, but Bruce knows full well that even if Jason did make a dent in his plate, he probably wouldn’t be able to keep it down. Instead Bruce presses a button on the monitor and speaks into the comm. “Alfred, could we have a couple of protein shakes please?” He requests. He doesn’t wait for a response, knowing that it’ll be affirmative. Jason mutters something that Bruce doesn’t quite catch, but he ignores the urge to ask. _Don’t push him._ He reminds himself near constantly. It’s what everyone’s said to him: Clark, Selina, Alfred, Dick, even Roy on one occasion. It’s worked so far, so Bruce forces himself to look away from Jason and back to the screen. 

When Alfred comes down to the cave with the protein shakes, he has a small army of sorts following him. Dick’s got Damian on his shoulders, ignoring that Damian’s making a real effort to tear his hair out, Barbara is in Tim’s arms, she would usually manage herself or take the elevator, but she doesn’t seem too upset to be carried, and Duke and Cass are close behind with her wheelchair between them. “Your drinks, sirs.” Alfred says when he reaches Bruce and Jason. He gives their full plates a dirty look, but softens a little when Jason takes his shake and responds with a “thanks Alfie.” Alfred reaches out and affectionately curls the white strands of Jason’s hair, the painfully obvious reminder of his time in the Lazarus Pit, around one of his gloved fingers.

Jason doesn’t flinch when Alfred touches him. Alfred’s one of perhaps four people Jason doesn’t mind touching him, the other being Koriand’r, Roy, and, most of the time at least, Tim. A childish part of Bruce whines that he should be on that list, but logic says he probably never will be. It hurts, but Bruce knows it’s true, and instead he settles for being glad Jason enjoys touch from  _ anyone  _ at all. 

“Hey, Little Wing! You and Bats come up with an ass-kicking plan yet?” Dick asks as the rest of the family gathers around them. Jason cringes a little at the nick name, but at least he’s not punching Dick like the last time Dick used it on him. Bruce stands, gaining his family’s attention, and clears his throat before beginning his instructions. 

“We’ll spread out. Everyone will be _at least_ in a pair.” Bruce starts, noticing Selina come down the stairs as he begins explaining his plan. “The Joker likes attention, he’s left a clue or calling card for us somewhere. Our job is to find it and track him down.”

“Hood!” Bruce starts the roll call with Jason, who snaps to attention after zoning out during his initial call to arms. “You and Red Robin will take Crime Alley and whatever parts of Uptown you have time for. Nightwing and Robin you’ll do a perimeter of Robinson Park and head into Old Gotham. Signal and Orphan, you’ll take the East Side. Spoiler and Blue Bird have got the West. Does everyone understand?”

They all nod, and Bruce is incredibly relieved at the lack of resistance. Jason lets Tim pull him to his feet, and Damian begrudgingly stays on Dick’s shoulders until they reach the dressing rooms. “What about you and Selina?” Barbara asks, wheeling her way to the computer. Selina nods in agreement, tapping her nails against the keyboard. “Yes, Bat. What about me and you?”

Bruce grins at her. Nobody makes him excited about _crime-fighting_ quite like reformed-criminal Selina Kyle. “We have some interviews to conduct.” He tells her. Selina grins, then straightens and stretches in her trademark cat-like way. “I suppose I need to get dressed then, hmm?”

Barbara makes an exaggerated gagging noise as Selina walks away. “Hey, I’m happy for you Bruce. You know it, but c’mon, that’s just a gross level of flirting.” She scolds him, but she’s smiling, so Bruce smiles back. “Anyway, who are you making house calls on? I’ve got a sighting of Ivy at the park, like usual, which means Harley is somewhere nearby. That work for you?” Barbara speaks as she taps away at the computer keys. Bruce crosses his arms, tapping his chin lightly. He doesn’t _want_ to bring Harley into anything Joker related, she’s worked far too hard to distance herself from him, but at the same time, he knows that no one will have better information on the Crown Prince of Crime than his ex-Princess, so Bruce pushes aside his guilt and nods to Barbara. “Alright. I’m getting dressed, you try and pinpoint Harley.”


	5. Selina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may notice during this chapter, I'm having a tough time deciding what to call each hero while they are patrolling. Using their real names makes them easier to identify, but I tried to use their hero-names as well a few times as a reminder of who they are right now. Let me know if this way of doing it works, or if it's too confusing, and give me suggestions if you have any!

Selina is sure she’ll always feel excited when she climbs into the Batmobile. It’s different now, of course, not such an occasional thing. Now she feels safe instead of anxious in the passenger seat of the Bat’s car. She can indulge herself in the smell of Kevlar, sweat, metal, and  _ Bruce.  _ Now she doesn’t have to wonder when he’ll next trust her enough to have her in the car, or when he or one of his followers will need her enough to let her into the fold. Bruce swore to her when he offered her that ring: he’s always needed her, always will, it just took him a while to admit it.

Selina grins at him when he sits down in the driver seat. His focus is immediately on patching Barbara Gordon – Oracle – into the Batmobile’s mainframe. Knowing she won’t have his attention for a moment, she watches the family milling about them. Red Hood and Red Robin already left, she could hear them yelling on their way out, challenging each other to some sort of bike race. Nightwing is kneeled in front of Robin, checking over his equipment as Robin glares at him. The boy’s not moving away though, he cares too much for Nightwing to do that. Signal is climbing onto his bike, Orphan scooting onto it and wrapping her arms around him. Orphan doesn’t talk much, but when Signal revs the engine she gives him a squeeze and laughs loudly. 

Soon Catwoman and Batman are the only ones left in the cave, and Selina is surprised to realize she misses the activity. When Bruce first opened his heart and home to her, she found his massive network of family and friends a touch overwhelming, but it didn’t take her long to grow attached to them. Living in the Manor, she sees a few of them almost daily, more specifically, Tim, Duke, Cass and Damian are a constant for her. She loves them all. Duke’s a little nervous around her, and Damian is his regular rather aggressive self, but Cass and Tim are both welcoming. Dick’s a delight when he visits, and despite how frustrating Selina finds it to watch Jason and Bruce argue, Jason’s good too. 

“You ready?” Bruce’s voice pulls her from her musings. He’s smiling a little, expression mostly covered by the cowl, but Selina can see enough of him to know his thoughts of the Joker haven’t beaten him down yet. “Of course, Bat.” Selina responds with her own grin, leaning up to the dash to press the button that closes the Batmobile’s doors “I’m always ready, aren’t you?”

They pass Nightwing and Robin on their way to Harley’s coordinates. Bruce grins when he sees his sons and pulls just close and fast enough by them that Nightwing yelps in surprise and Robin shouts something at them in Arabic. “Have you ever made them crash by doing that?” Selina asks, looking in the rearview to see Robin trying his hardest to catch up to them on his slower and smaller motorbike. 

Batman barks a laugh and shakes his head. “No. I’m surprised they’re not used to it yet. It’s the only prank I ever pull on them.” He comments. Selina laughs a little as well. The idea of them adapting to it made even better by the fact that Bruce’s youngest son was the most prepared for the prank and his oldest the least. 

“Slow down, you two.” Oracle’s voice cuts through their laughter. “Keep this up and you’ll blow past Harley and catch up to Red Robin and Hood.’” Bruce obliges and pulls his foot from the gas pedal. Though Selina immediately misses the rush and can tell he does too. “Harley should be within this block, police chatter says there was a hyena eating out of the dumpster you just passed.” Oracle continues, and her last direction has Bruce pulling the Batmobile to a stop 30 or so feet from the dumpster.

“Bat.” Selina groans as he opens the doors. “By the hyena trash, really?” He shakes his head but otherwise ignores her complaints, so Selina settles with hissing at him and getting out of the car. She stands by the Batmobile, hands on her hips, letting Batman go look at the dumpster if he’s  _ so inclined  _ to do so. Selina taps her foot. With Harley it’s really just a waiting game, when she notices the Batmobile she’ll come out to play. 

Sure enough, several minutes later Selina has to stop herself from jumping when a shrill voice calls: “Hey Cat Lady! It’s been awhile!” Harley is standing behind her when she turns around. One of her two hyenas stands at her hip, and her massive mallet taps against the ground on her other side. “Hey, Harley.” Selina says. It’s not an act, the sweet voice she greets the jester with. Selina likes Harley, whether she’s on the ‘good-guy’ side nowadays or not. 

“Harleen.” Batman says, coming up to stand beside Catwoman. She has the temptation to scold him, shouldn’t he know by now that the  _ Bruce  _ voice will work better on Harley than the  _ Batman  _ voice will? The jester smiles at him in a way that’s more of a sneer than anything, then drops her mallet and raises her hands high above her head. “I’m innocent B-man!” Harley cries “Not doing nothin’ but a little sniffin’ around!”

Bruce softens a little. “So are we.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Have you seen or heard from Joker lately, Harley?” Her expression darkens at his question and she brings her hands down to plant them on her hips. “I ain’t with him no more.” Harley retorts. Selina sends Bruce a dirty look, then steps closer to her friend. They are  _ friends still  _ she hopes, glancing down at the hyena guarding Harley’s side. 

Harley doesn’t move when Selina rests her hands on the villain’s shoulders, and the damned hyena doesn’t make a peep, so Selina calls herself safe. “I know that Harley. We both do. We also know you keep tabs on him though, like you should with an asshole ex like him.” Her jab pulls a little smile out of Harley, and the jester nods her head, pig-tails bobbing up and down. “Okay Cat Lady, what’s yer’ situation?” Harley asks. Catwoman doesn’t spare Batman a glance before spilling far more information than he would willingly allow. She keeps names out, duh, and exact locations, also duh, but gives Harley enough info where she can guess at Joker’s thought process. 

Harley steps back to cross her arms and tap her chin in an exaggerated display of ‘thinking.’ Then she straightens right back up like she’s made some miracle connection. “He’s fucking with you!” Harley cries. Selina blinks, and resists looking back at Bruce because he can’t be happy right now. “Elaborate. Please, Harley.” Selina requests tensely. Harley picks up her mallet, somehow swinging the heavy thing up to rest on her shoulder without much effort. “Puddin’ knows your baby birds are a soft spot, but he doesn’t think killin’ em is much fun, not now that he knows they can pop right back up. So don’t worry about all that too much.” Harley explains. “Joker’s planning somethin’ probably. Just wanted to make you squirm first.”

Catwoman looks back at Batman, finally. His face has been forced to neutral, walls up as he battles with his thoughts. Selina wants to rip that cowl off and claw at the walls until they finally fall down. He goes away so quick sometimes, disappears so deep into his mind that she isn’t sure where he ends up. She breathes out, forcing herself to consider one thing at a time. “Thank you, Harley.” She says, deciding to handle the jester first. Harley gives her a big smile, a genuine one that makes Selina sad for making the poor girl consider the Joker once again. She walks over to Batman and shoves his arm out of the way to get into his utility belt. It takes a second, but she eventually remembers which pocket is the old-school detective pocket and finds a little slip of paper and a pen. She writes her number on it. Not even a burner number, her _actual_ phone number, and passes it to Harley.

“Emergencies only.” Selina says rather strictly. The rules don’t dampen Harley’s joy. She squeals in excitement and picks Selina up in a hug. “Aww, Cat! Ives and I have missed you!” Harley says when she finally releases Selina from her hold. “Girl’s night counts as an emergency, so you better be ready!” Harley taps a finger against her nose and gives her another excitement-fueled hug, then skips away without much more fan fare. Leaving Batman to chuckle slightly, and Catwoman to try and get oxygen back into her squeezed-out lungs.

Once they sit back down in the Batmobile, Bruce rests a hand on her knee, smiling from under the cowl. Selina breathes out. He’s back again, she doesn’t have to fight to get him back from his own mind. “Thank you.” He says gently. “She likes you, talked a lot better to you than she would have to me.” Selina would love to say his praise doesn’t manage to make her blush. It _shouldn’t,_ she’s a grown woman who’s perfectly aware she just handled Harley Quinn better than the _Batman,_ but that stupid smile and soft voice wins her over anyway. Selina never thought she’d be grateful for the sound of gunfire, but the interruption of Signal crying “Bats! Need help!” over the barrage of noise in the background of his call is a welcome break from looking at Bruce and _blushing._

Bruce’s response is immediate. “Oracle! Send me Orphan and Signal’s coordinates!” He’s pressing buttons, jerking the car into reverse and then drive again once they reach a road, and barking orders all at once. Selina loves to watch it. Despite her enjoyment of his determination, Selina takes over the comm system for him, hoping he’ll figure out she’s helping him so he can keep his eyes on the road and not kill them. “Duke?” She calls to him, because codenames be  _ damned,  _ that kid sounded scared when he called. 

“Okay.” Signal’s voice answers after too long of a pause for Selina’s sanity’s sake. “Orphan and I, we found some cover.” There is some shuffling from his end of the call, and a grunt from him, then Orphan’s limited English cuts in. “Signal is hurt!” She cries. “Ambush by Penguin!” She explains. Selina once again breathes out slow and heavy, forcing herself to stay calm. “You hang in there, okay? Keep pressure on Duke’s wound if it’s bleeding. Batman and I are on our way.” She hopes she sounds as reassuring as she’s trying to, and hopes that Orphan’s lack of response is acceptance not… Well, Selina won’t let her mind go there.

Oracle’s instructions and the Batmobile’s GPS lead them right to the trackers in Signal and Orphan’s suits. The two teens are pressed up behind a low fence. It’s short, but metal and a few inches thick, barely wide enough to keep them protected. Given the blood smeared along it, the two of them have scooted along the fence to avoid any bullets denting their way through. The shots had thinned out as they approached, but now that the Batmobile’s in site they pick up again. Selina mutters a thank you to the bullet-proof car, and then a curse because her not at  _ all  _ bullet-proof husband is already halfway out the door. 

Batman stays low as he scrambles to Orphan and Signal. He leans against the fence once he’s close to them, and tosses a bomb over the side of it when there is a short lull in the shooting. After the explosion rocks them Selina comments: “good job, you scared a couple.” Orphan is missing the bottom half of one of her pant legs. The fabric has been torn into strips and wrapped tightly around Signal’s leg. Batman touches it, checking if blood is leaking through and earns a groan of “ _why,_ man?” from Duke.

Catwoman, from her place in the car, isn’t 100% sure how to help. Bruce’s expression relaxed a touch after he checked on Signal, so she can assume that the teen is alright. Orphan doesn’t look hurt, a little dirtier than when she left the cave, but uninjured. “Bat?” Selina says, and he lifts his hand to the comm in his ear. “I’ll drive around when they go to reload, when they turn on me, you and Orphan jump em.’” 

That’s exactly what they do. Honestly, it goes pretty smoothly, the least graceful part of it is arguably Selina’s climb from the passenger seat to the driver’s seat. The pedals aren’t the easiest to reach, but the moment Selina sees one of the thugs drop his gun and search his pockets for ammo, she stretches down to slam the gas. She drives close enough to knock over but not crush any of them, and grins pridefully when they quickly turn their attention to her. She likes this angle, this angle lets her see their shocked expression when Orphan and Batman come up from behind. 

Batman stays a little ways back. He throws a group of Batarangs with an arc of his arm. He aims low, so they hit the calves of the thugs. Damage not too permanent, but painful enough to keep them down for a while. Orphan launches herself onto the shoulders of another thug, wrapping her legs around his neck and elbowing him hard enough in the head to knock him out, then she leans to the side and uses her body weight to leverage the thug’s falling body the way she wants to go. Orphan does this three times over, literally leaping from one foe to the next, her feet never touching the ground. Batman, meanwhile, handles the rest with Batarangs and a few well placed kicks and punches if they come within his reach.

Catwoman steps out of the Batmobile to give them a stage-applause when their foes are down. Bruce is glaring at her though the cowl, she’s sure, but she doesn’t mind. She’d been out of the car in seconds if she thought they needed her help. Clearly though, they didn’t. The mask twists on Orphan’s face in a way that Selina’s learned means she’s smiling under the fabric, so Selina goes to Cassandra to give her a high-five. Batman turns with a swirl of his cape and goes to Signal, picking him up in strong arms despite the boy’s protests that he can  _ probably  _ walk. 

They’re lucky, Selina thinks, that Bruce chose the Batmobile that actually has back seats. Otherwise they’d now be taking multiple trips or she’d somehow be fitting Signal and Orphan in her lap. Selina hits the button that opens all the doors, and Bruce nods at her before carefully setting Signal in the back seat. Orphan goes around the other side to sit with him. “Make sure he keeps that leg up.” Batman instructs her. Selina rolls her eyes at him, and she imagines Orphan does too since the girl was already providing Signal’s injured leg with leverage to help stop the bleeding.

Batman and Catwoman climb back into the car. He hits a button that orders Signal’s motorbike to automatically take itself home, then whips the Batmobile into drive. Duke mumbles something along the lines of “bumpy road” from the backseat that forces Bruce to slow down a touch, though he clenches his fists and jaw through it. Selina moves to comfort him, but is distracted by the crackling of the comm system. She tunes the Batmobile to focus on Red Robin’s comm.

“Red Robin? Come in.” Batman says. Unlike the background of Signal’s call, Red Robin’s comm is silent except for his voice and another voice in the background that is probably Red Hood’s. “Hey, Batman.” Tim says. “I think we found it. The calling card. We found Arsenal’s bow, Joker messed with it.”

“Bring it to the cave.” Batman instructs him. “We’ll have Green Arrow look at it. With Arsenal down no one is going to know how it _should_ look better than GA.” Red Robin responds with an affirmative of some sort, and his comm cuts out just after he starts explaining the plan to Red Hood. Bruce doesn’t say much else on the drive back to the Cave. Minus the occasional question about Signal’s state, and grunt in response to anyone else speaking, he’s lost in his thoughts.

“Master Duke!” Alfred’s chiding voice carries across the cave as Signal attempts to scramble out of the Batmobile without help. He freezes when Alfred scolds him, and Jason sets down the helmet that had been under his arm in favor of scooping his younger brother right up off the floor. Batman pulls back his cowl, looking perhaps a bit annoyed that he didn’t get to Signal’s side of the car before Jason. Duke groans in annoyance, but begrudgingly hooks one arm around Jason’s shoulders to make himself easier to carry and doesn’t make any more complaints on his way to the medical bed beside Roy’s.

Roy for his part is actually half-awake when Jason sets Duke on the bed beside his. Selina’s not surprised Jason picked him up. Duke’s not exactly small, and really only Jason and Bruce are packed with enough muscle to lift him up like he’s feather-light. “Mr. Harper, if you could pass me the tool plate beside you?” Alfred asks, feeding Roy’s clear desire to be useful right now. Roy’s a little shaky when he takes the metal tray from his bedside table and passes it to Alfred, but he gets it there nonetheless. 

Alfred lifts Duke’s leg to check for an exit wound, a move that requires Jason’s strength as well and earns a groan of pain from Duke. Bruce is at his side, taking off his helmet and gently wiping the sweat off of Duke’s forehead with a rag. “Bat,” Selina says, noticing how he keeps glancing between Duke and Tim who is carrying a case up to the computer platform. Selina takes the rag from his hand. “Alfred and I have him. Go see Tim.” She encourages him, pointedly leaving Jason off of her list as well so he can feel okay about walking away. 


	6. Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to name chapters. I've been naming them after whoever's POV the chapter is coming from... Does that work? Or is that confusing?

Bruce stays at Duke’s side until Alfred hooks up an IV and gets him anesthetic, then lets Selina take his place beside Duke’s head. Cassandra has tugged away her mask and nudged Jason away as well, standing next to Alfred and holding out her hands as if to say she’s there to help. When Bruce reaches the computer platform and table that Tim’s laid Roy’s bow on, he finds Oliver already there examining it. 

Clearly it’s no Arsenal battle bow, but that doesn’t surprise Bruce too much. A box low to the ground would be too easy for Lian to find, it’s unlikely Roy would keep something as deadly as the Arsenal bow within her reach. “Careful when you pick it up, it’s been split somewhere in the middle.” Tim comments when Oliver starts to lift it. Then Tim points to the most obvious out-of-the-norm feature on the bow, a big purple ribbon tied around the center of it. 

“Alright. So the ribbon is holding it together. When do you think it broke, Oliver? From the fall or afterwards?” Bruce asks him. Oliver takes a moment to answer, busy running his fingers along the bowstring. “Probably from the fall, he fell on his good side, bow could’ve been under him. This one is just wood, it wouldn’t have the bend to survive the fall.” Oliver responds. 

“This isn’t a bowstring.” Oliver comments after another pause. “It’s a wire, a thin one, so it looks right from a distance, but I can tell.” 

Tim turns to the computer, searching for connections between the wire and ribbon. Bruce takes the bow to another platform in the cave to scan it, Oliver hovering over his shoulder as he does so. “Making sure it won’t explode?” Oliver asks, circling the scanner. Bruce, as per usual, finds him a touch annoying, but without Oliver’s quick analysis it would’ve taken him and Tim much more time to notice what was off about the bowstring. “I’m ensuring it’s alright to dismantle.” Bruce counters, and when Oliver blinks at him, he sighs. “No, Oliver, I don’t  _ want  _ it to explode.”

Oliver and Bruce go silent while the scanner works, just listening to the occasional automated beeps. “Your kid gonna be okay?” Oliver asks when the machine gives its loud finishing _bleep!_ Bruce looks at him, then glances at the med-bay. Roy looks asleep again, still too hurt and drugged-up to stay conscious for long. Duke is in a similarly exhausted state, thankfully asleep while Alfred works to get the bullet out of his thigh. Bruce looks back to the scanners report. “He’ll be fine. He’s tough. He just needs to rest.”

Oliver shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and taps his foot. Bruce tries to ignore the nervous habit, not everyone is good at covering those. Though a part of Bruce wants to point out to Oliver that even Barry Allen, the fastest man alive, can keep his toe-tapping to a minimum. He’s sure he’d get the retort that  _ Barry  _ takes split-second long runs around the Watchtower perimeter when bored or nervous, and he would have Bruce beat with that point. 

“Talk. Oliver.” Bruce says after the loaded silence goes on for too long. Oliver grumbles something he doesn’t catch, but Bruce is just glad he’s unsewn his jaw. “Roy. Roy’s going to be okay, right? I mean, according to your evaluation.” Oliver asks, the foot-tapping speeding up with his increased anxiety level. Bruce takes the bow and sets it on a table so he can carefully remove the ribbon. Then turns to Oliver. “I don’t know. Physically? Yes. He’s recovered from worse. Mentally? I don’t know, Oliver, this won’t be easy for him. It’ll feel like a massive step backwards, an invasion of his privacy, endangerment… He’s not going to feel safe. Not for a while.” Bruce speaks slowly and seriously, hoping every word gets through Oliver’s thick skull and really makes him think.

Oliver goes quiet for a few long moments, rubbing his hands over his upper arms. For a moment Bruce thinks he’s going to explode again, like he did when he first learned what happened to Roy, but instead he just leans back against the scanner and puts his head in his hands. “I’ll protect him. Take him to Star City. Dinah and I will keep him and Lian safe,” Oliver mumbles, nodding along to his own suggestion. Bruce knows it sounds selfish, but he also knows he’s right when he points out Jason and Roy’s relationship: “What about Jason? They’ve been dating almost two years, you really think they’ll just split up like that? Or pick up their life here and go?” Bruce questions. 

Bruce is incredibly glad he’s a billionaire when Oliver slams a fist into the expensive scanner. He’s painfully aware of all the eyes that go to them. Some of the kids, like the newly arrived Dick, and Tim at the computer are subtle with their looks, but Damian, Jason, and Cass stare at them openly. “And don’t you think _your kid_ would put him first!? If Jason loves him, he’s going to keep him safe!” Oliver shouts. Bruce clenches his fists, trying not to explode in response. Bruce forces himself to look away from Jason, his son’s anguished expression and full-body flinch at Oliver’s words making Bruce’s heart hurt.

“You all attract danger! Don’t you  _ see  _ that!? All your tragic pasts and shit!? It follows you like a cloud!” Oliver continues, throwing his arms up in the air. Bruce clenches the edge of the table the bow rests on, trying to ground himself there so he doesn’t attack Oliver himself. Jason doesn’t bother with said techniques, taking the stairs from the computer platform to the scanner platform in two broad strides and shoving Oliver as hard as he can. 

Oliver goes tumbling back, trying to catch himself on the scanner and failing. Instead he lands hard on his back before scrambling to push himself onto his hands and look at Jason. Jason stands over him menacingly, hands clenched into fists at his side. Jason looks like he’s struggling to decide if he should say something or just beat the living daylights out of Oliver. Luckily, before he can make a choice, Dick is beside him, grabbing at his arms and pulling him back. 

Jason doesn’t fight Dick’s grip, letting his older brother clasp a hand on the back of his neck and turn him away from Oliver. Dick pulls the arm Jason has hanging between them around his own waist, and Jason actually holds onto him, grounding himself in Dick’s touch. “Master Jason,” Alfred says when they walk by. Once he has their attention the butler points at Roy, who’s been woken up by the shouting. Jason tugs away from Dick and goes to Roy’s side, leaning over him and brushing his red hair out of his face.

The cave walls echo their voices, so Bruce can just pick out the words. Roy pulls one of Jason’s hands away from his face to hold it in his own. “Jaybird.” He murmurs. “Why you mad?” Jason laughs at the question, dropping his forehead against Roy’s chest. 

“Your dad’s an asshole,” Jason tells him, earning a smile.

“Yeah, we all know that, but don’t kill em’ okay? Somebody’s gotta fill Lian’s trust fund,” Roy says. Bruce can tell Jason’s already losing him to sleep again, but for now Roy’s jokes and tenderness have helped Jason to relax. Jason picks his head up from Roy’s chest, having to de-tangle the archer’s fingers from the spot they found in his dark hair. “C’mon Jay, let’s go upstairs,” Dick says, touching his shoulder. Jason hunches in on himself, but Bruce knows there is no one better than Dick to put a smile back on his face. 

Oliver has pulled himself back to his feet with a bit of struggle. He’ll be bruised, Bruce is sure, but he feels no guilt over Jason’s actions. Oliver glowers at everyone in the cave that spares him a glance, then stalks over to Roy’s hospital bed and sits beside him. He doesn’t talk to Roy or take his hand, just crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at his sleeping son.


	7. Jason

Jason attempts to sleep that night, after fighting with Oliver, but doesn’t have much luck. Eventually he calls ‘seeing the sun on the horizon’ a reasonable enough time to get up. Jason finds some clothes that he’d stored in the Manor at one point or another, gets dressed, steals an apple from the bowl of fruit in the kitchen and plants himself on the top step of the staircase to Wayne Manor’s front door. 

Jason’s not trying to hide. There’s no point, someone will find him no matter how hard he tries. Sure enough, several minutes after he sits down, Dick joins him. He sets a plate with two cups of tea on it between them, but neither of them are about to touch that. After all, if there’s a person in the Wayne family who could burn water, it’s Dick Grayson. 

Jason offers Dick a nod of acknowledgement, enjoying the momentary silence before Dick inevitably opens his mouth and starts chattering. Dick actually gives him some time, leaning back on his hands and turning his face to the morning sun, basking in it like a reptile of some sort. Jason snorts at him and pulls a cigarette from his pocket. He knows Dick will give him shit for it, but lights it regardless. The burn in his throat is a needed distraction.

“I won’t say it’s not your fault, because I’m pretty sure you’ll just hit me for it, but I am going to give you a pep-talk.” Dick says, stretching out and laying down on ground, his legs crossed and hanging down the stairs. “Ollie’s an asshole, but he’s also a  _ dad.”  _ Dick continues. “He’s scared. He wants someone to blame, someone he can hurt for hurting Roy. I don’t think he cares who it is or if they deserve it.”

Dick was right. Jason does want to punch him. He’s being all perfect Golden-Boy with his frustratingly big heart that makes it impossible for Jason to  _ actually  _ hate him. Instead Jason just shakes his head, stubs out his cigarette on the stairs, and lays on the concrete next to his brother. Dick gives him a blinding smile before looking back at the sky and closing his eyes. Jason thinks he could actually sleep now. Dick beside him, cool concrete at his back, the morning sun slowly heating his skin. 

Naturally though, siblings don’t exist for much else than moment- ruining. The Manor doors creaking open are the only warning before Titus’s feet land right on Jason’s chest. Jason coughs when 200+ pounds of Great Dane push all the air out of him, and Damian’s cackle sounds at his struggling. “Titus! Down!” Dick says, but he’s laughing too hard to establish any authority. Besides, Titus is _Damian’s_ dog, if the Demon Brat wants the dog to suffocate Jason, it totally will. 

“Damian!” Dick chides after a minute or two of Titus stepping and slobbering on Jason. Damian tuts, then gives a little whistle, and the dog goes right to his side. Jason wipes the back of his hand over his slobber-covered face and tries to shake away the moisture caught to his skin. Damian sits next to Dick, keeping space between them but only putting up a small fight when Dick reaches out and tugs him closer. Damian mutters something in Arabic and slaps Dick’s chest, but still settles for resting his head on Dick’s stomach. Jason begrudgingly lays back down beside them, leveling Damian with a glare that the boy just rolls his eyes at.

They get a couple minutes of calm. Silence broken by quiet panting from Titus and the soft scratching sounds of Dick’s fingers in Damian’s hair, before the door creaks open once again. Dick arches his back, pushing his stomach up in the air and the top of his head to rest on the ground. His eerie flexibility makes Damian’s head slide down, and allows Dick an upside-down view of Tim. The third Robin has half a bagel in his mouth and a coffee mug in his hand. According to the mug and his pajamas – an over-sized Superboy shirt and grey-checkered pants – Tim just woke up.

“Drake!” Damian pushes himself up via a hand shoved into Dick’s stomach. “What have you and Father found?” He asks excitedly. Evidence: one of the rare subjects Tim and Damian willingly converse on. Tim sits beside Jason, pulling up and crossing his legs. He doesn’t bother to finish chewing before answering the question, and Jason’s temptation to scold him while imitating Alfred’s accent is  _ very  _ strong. Jason sort of loves that about Tim. Unlike Jason and his other siblings, Tim was raised as a member of the highest upper class, the top 1%, and he still manages to be the messiest and worst mannered of all of them. 

Post setting the remnants of his bagel on his knee, Tim starts talking. “I analyzed the ribbon. Did a thread count, dye analysis, fray test. Found its manufacturer.” He shoves the rest of the bagel in his mouth and covers his lips with his fingers so he can continue speaking. “Checked the wire too. It’s size and coating narrowed things down, but I couldn’t pinpoint it as well as the ribbon. The ribbon was easy enough though, I’m sure the connections are there.”

Dick closes his eyes at some point during Tim’s explanation. Jason is admittedly a little zoned out as well, Damian’s the only one of them that continued to nod along. “So… Did you find where it came from?” Jason asks, cutting Tim off before he can spew anymore scientific mumbo-jumbo. Tim nods. “Yup! Terror Textiles! They usually operate only during the Halloween season, but since expanding they’ve opened a factory here.” Tim tells him. Jason’s face drops, he’s heard of the company before, Jason, Kori, and Roy stopped a robbery in one of their factories when the business first started.

“Star City.” Jason mumbles, sitting up and crossing his arms over his knees. Dick sits up too, his hand on Jason’s shoulder and his concerned expression hovering in Jason’s peripheral. “Terror Textiles started in Star City. How big of a coincidence do you think that is, Timbers?” Tim frowns in response to Jason’s tone. Of course he knew, Tim doesn’t miss things, especially not something as easy to learn as a company’s origin city. Jason gets the feeling Tim would’ve liked to keep that fact to himself though, given his tense and worried look.

Jason stands, ignoring Tim and Dick’s protests. “I’m calling Dinah.” He dismisses them by walking off to the far edge of the Manor and into the yard. It doesn’t take long to find her number, besides Roy and his siblings, she’s one of the few people he calls. It’s usually Lian or Roy related, yes, but Jason does genuinely like Dinah. She’s smart, strong, she loves Lian and Roy, and she’s got an obvious heart of gold under her tough exterior. 

Dinah picks up after the second ring. Jason can tell from the excitement in her voice that she’s been waiting for his call. He contacted her and Oliver to check on Lian when he first realized Roy was missing, but since then has not spoken to her.  _ “Jason.  _ Hi!” She says.

“Hey Dinah. How is she?” Jason asks about Lian right away, leaning against the brick siding of Wayne Manor once he’s out of sight of his brothers. 

“She’s alright. Keeps asking about you and Roy. Wanted to know how Roy got hurt and who did it.” Dinah responds, he can hear the fond smile in her voice. Lian is a good kid. A smart one too, Roy’s always been beyond proud of that fact. 

“She really wants to talk to you, Jason.” Dinah says, her voice suddenly soft and encouraging. Jason sits down in the grass, back against the wall, and sighs. Of course he wants to talk to Lian, but her little voice asking him question after question that he can’t answer in a way that won’t scare her… that could break him. 

“Okay. Could you put her on the line?” Jason says after thinking it over for a long moment. He waits while Dinah gets Lian, resisting the urge to pull another cigarette out. Instead he occupies himself by ripping bits of grass out of the lawn.

There is no way for Jason to  _ not  _ smile when shuffling sounds cut through the phone’s audio and then Lian’s little voice asks: “Jay-Jay?” He holds the phone close to his cheek, dropping his forehead into one of his hands. “Hi Lian.” He responds, and she repeats his nickname once again with more enthusiasm. 

Lian chatters for a while, telling him about all the fun things she and Dinah have been doing, and how goofy ‘Grandpa Ollie’s’ hair looked when he left the house two nights ago. Dinah has clearly been spoiling her in an attempt to keep Lian distracted from her father’s absence. Lian does still manage to circle back to Roy after telling Jason about the zoo her and Dinah visited.

Jason sighs when she asks about Roy. He steels himself, forcing a neutral voice that hopefully doesn’t betray his guilt or anger. “Dinah explained how your dad got hurt, right?” He asks. He hears Lian’s cheek hit the phone as she nods in response before realizing he can’t see her. “Yeah.” Lian says. “Dinah says bad men took him from our house. She won’t tell me who the guys were.”

“That’s for the best, Lian.” Jason tells her. “If Dinah or I told you who hurt Roy, then they might hurt you because you know, you get that right?”

“Yes, Jay-Jay. I’d be a conn-ect-ion.” She has to sound out the last word, but Jason is glad to hear the genuine acceptance in her little voice. She’s begrudging, sure, but understanding regardless.

“I’ll make sure you see Roy as soon as he’s healthy enough, okay?” Jason assures her. “He and I miss you a lot, kiddo. Tell Dinah thanks for dealing with you, alright?” 

Lian’s tone shows that she is clearly  _ very  _ offended by the idea that Dinah is just ‘dealing with her.’ “Dinah says we’re hanging out!” She retorts. 

“Alright. Alright!” Jason laughs as she starts repeating herself at his lack of response. “You’re  _ hanging out _ . Understood.”

“Jay-Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“Dinah says it’s breakfast time now, so I’m gonna go.”

“Okay, baby-girl.”

“I love you Jay-Jay! Tell Daddy I miss him and I love him!” 

Jason tells her he’ll pass on her message and hangs up. He sets the phone in the grass beside him and pulls his knees up against his chest, crossing his arms over them and burying his face in his shirt sleeves. He’s trying to hold off the panic attack, really is. His heart is warm from the happiness Lian brought him, but rattling in his chest with fear for her.

_ It’s my fault.  _ Jason’s thoughts cry. The Joker couldn’t finish him off, so now he’s going to hurt everyone Jason loves. Roy was just the first step, missing Lian was a fluke. Who knows when Joker will move past them and to his family. Jason’s seen too much in his life, too many of the Joker’s crimes. He can  _ visualize  _ the creative ways Joker will kill them all: Dick dropped from a height with no lines to catch him, Damian cut down by the swords he loves so much, Tim forced through puzzle after puzzle until he can handle it no longer, Bruce shot with one of the guns he despises. Jason digs his fingers into his eyes, wanting to pry them out and ruin his ability to see his family hurt.

Jason really does try not to cry, but at this point in his life, he’s past feeling ashamed of his tears. Crying speeds up his panic attacks, allows more release more immediately. Thinking about the fact that _Roy_ helped him push past that shame just makes Jason cry harder. _His person. His friend. His fault._ Roy with his explosive personality, stupid jokes, big doofey smile, constant need to be touching Jason, ridiculous amount of pride for every little thing Lian does, his stupid gadgets, stupid perfect aim with his bow… Stupid. _Perfect._ Roy. 

A tennis ball hits Jason’s knee, snapping him out of his thoughts and scaring the living daylights out of him. He yelps a few expletives and leaps to the side, hand on his hip to find a weapon he’s not carrying. “Oh my God.” Jason rubs his face forcefully.  _ “Damn you, Damian.”  _ He growls. His little brother looks less than impressed with him, standing with his hands on his hips and Titus at his side while he glares down at Jason. 

“Throw it.” Damian commands, pointing one of his sneakers at the ball sitting by Jason’s legs. Jason picks it up, raises it, and very nearly tosses it at Damian himself. He resists the urge and instead throws it as hard as he can into the yard. Titus woofs in delight and goes running off after the ball, Damian and Jason watching him as he goes. 

Titus’s happy sounds bring Ace out to the yard, and soon the game of fetch morphs into fetch-and-wrestle. While Jason at first wanted to strangle Damian for scaring him and interrupting his thoughts, he soon calms under the boy’s influence. Damian never picks up the tennis ball himself, just nudges Titus or Ace in Jason’s direction and has him throw it. The Demon Brat doesn’t say anything to Jason either, just makes occasional comments on the dog's antics and talks to the canines when they come close to him. Damian, in his own weird way, has done a brilliant job of helping Jason calm down without pressuring him in any way.

Jason and Damian decide to abandon the game when Titus and Ace finally give up on fetch themselves, and instead focus on wrestling in the grass. Titus has probably 100 or so pounds on Ace, but the German Shepherd is still putting up a good fight, and he has Titus on his back in the grass just as frequently as Titus has him pinned. Damian smiles at the dogs, actually smiles, blushy-child cheeks and everything. Jason stares at him for a second, then gives him a curious poke to the temple. The smile drops and a scowl forms almost immediately. “Sorry.” Jason teases. “You were smiling so much I thought you had to be a clone of some sort.” 

Damian’s frown just deepens even more and he jabs at Jason’s stomach, but Jason is proud to say he knew it was coming and dodged the brunt of it. Damian’s resulting shocked expression at his failed hit just makes Jason laugh more. Damian growls at him and whips around to march away from him. Jason snickers again, but follows his little brother back into the house, heart a little lighter after the time with Damian and the dogs.


	8. Bruce

“Where’s Oliver?” Bruce asks as he walks into the cave and notices a distinct lack of his fellow hero. Alfred is standing beside Duke, checking the IV’s hooked up to him. “I sent him home, Master Bruce.” Alfred explains as Bruce joins him beside the bed. “It took promises of hourly updates, and Ms. Lance will be taking her own shift shortly, but he has gone home to rest and hopefully get some piece of mind.”

Bruce arches an eyebrow. “Hourly? Isn’t that a bit excessive?” He asks. Alfred gives him a dark look, clearing his throat and nodding at how Bruce is currently adjusting Duke’s blankets. “I’m not so sure, Master Bruce, I think Mr. Queen is just being an attentive father.” Alfred chides him. Bruce doesn’t try to respond, a battle of sass with Alfred could never be won. 

Alfred, satisfied with Duke IVs, collects the cups and plates around the bed. The scattered dishes are a result of Cassandra, Tim, and Stephanie gathering around Duke in the cave to eat their dinners the night before. “You’ve slept, I hope sir?” Alfred asks. Bruce sighs, turning and heading over to the computer monitor. “Yes Alfred. Both Tim and I rested after we found the origins of Joker’s alterations to Roy’s bow.” Bruce can practically hear the satisfaction in Alfred’s voice as he tosses a final “very good, sir” over his shoulder on his way out of the cave. 

Bruce’s sleeping habits are something Selina greatly improved when she moved into the Manor. She’s a night owl herself, yes, but also enjoys sleep and knows how vital it is to Batman’s work abilities. While she lets him work until around one or two in the morning, it doesn’t take long after that for her to start nudging him home. Having four teenagers in the house has helped as well, Bruce’s habits have developed around theirs somewhat. They like Selina’s schedule, and he prefers to be awake and keeping an eye on them when they’re up and about, so they’ve all fallen into somewhat of a consistent routine. 

Without Selina, Bruce is sure he wouldn’t have slept a wink since learning the Joker had resurfaced yet again. While he does stubbornly think he would’ve made more progress that way, he’s also aware that his sleeping made his family feel alright to rest themselves. Tim, for example, would _never_ stop working to rest if Bruce hadn’t, and sometimes the teen refuses even when Bruce does go to sleep himself, but having Bruce to follow has helped Tim.

“Hey, Bruce.” Tim’s voice breaks the silence after Bruce works alone in the cave for an hour or so. Tim shuffles his way up to the computer platform, still in his pajamas, with his eyes on his smartphone. He puts his phone in his pocket once he reaches the computer. Tim hangs himself over the back of the chair, his cheek bumping against the top of Bruce’s head. 

“How long have you been awake?” Bruce asks. Tim takes a while to answer, too busy looking over what Bruce has pulled up on the screen to talk. Eventually he rubs at his face in a child-like manner that makes Bruce want to hug him and actually meets Bruce’s eyes. “Eh. I got up early since Jay and Dick were up, but then I went back to sleep because Jason was going to talk to Dinah instead.” Tim explains, pushing some of his black hair out of his face.

“How is he? Jason?” Bruce questions. Tim’s probably the family member Jason confides in the most often and Bruce is glad to see it. Their relationship didn’t start well, Jason had resented Tim for being his ‘replacement,’ but Tim fought hard to gain Jason’s respect, and his maturity, wit, and intelligence eventually worked on Jason. Now, despite their age difference, Tim is the sibling Jason is closest with.

Tim shrugs at the question. “I dunno. I think Dick talked to him, so that probably helped, and I’m sure hearing from Dinah and probably Lian made him happy.” Tim explains, sitting on the chair-arm instead of leaning on it at this point. Bruce shifts his arm against the back of the chair to make space for Tim and catch him if he starts leaning one way or another. “He was upset to learn about the Star City connection, just like I predicted.” Tim frowns, deep and hurt, like it’s his fault somehow. Bruce sets a hand on Tim’s back, hoping to comfort him.

Bruce thinks for a moment, drumming his fingers against Tim’s spine. “I’m going to take Catwoman, Nightwing, and Robin to the Textile Warehouse tonight.” He tells his son, finally getting an expression out of Tim that isn’t so sad. “I want you and Red Hood to investigate the location where Orphan and Signal were attacked last night. They weren’t far off from the Iceberg lounge, but they knew to be cautious. I’m sure you can tell me why they were being waited on?”

Tim gives him a confident smile and nod. Bruce grins right back. He watches Tim shuffle his way off the chair arm and head for the stairs, phone out and texting rapidly once again. “Kon’s coming over today!” Tim calls over his shoulder. “I’ll make sure he brings Jon for Damian!” Bruce wants to protest, but given that Tim _wasn’t_ asking, he’s already made plans of his own accord or asked Selina or Alfred for permission.

“Batman?” A voice calls a while after Tim leaves. Bruce stiffens up at it, not used to being called _Batman_ while wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of Kevlar. “Yes, Roy?” He responds, standing from the chair and crossing the room to stand by the archer’s bed. Roy’s expression is solemn, he doesn’t meet Bruce’s eyes. Bruce takes pity on him, sitting in the chair beside his bed and leaning closer to show Roy he has Bruce’s full attention.

Roy still doesn’t look at him, just folds an arm over his chest to grip his other arm. His hand covering the marks on his inner elbow. “I know. Y’know.” He says. “You’re all trying to keep it from me, keep me asleep, that’s why Jaybird’s hiding, he thinks he’d give it away.” Roy’s voice is _so sad._ It’s defeated and frustrated. Bruce doesn’t know what to do. He’s known Roy for many years, yes, through Dick and then through Jason, but he’s never been close with the archer. He’s not Roy’s friend or family, doesn’t feel allowed to reach out and touch him, so he just has to watch and listen. 

A tear runs down Roy’s cheek and he immediately snaps to cover his face with his hands. He heaves out a shaky breath. “Dammit. I’m sorry.” Roy mutters. Bruce carefully rests a hand on the edge of the bed, stopping himself from pulling Roy into a hug. Instead he watches Roy slowly catch his breath and fight away the tears. When he pulls away his hands his eyes are still watery and his pale skin is reddened. 

“I knew the first time I woke up.” Roy continues. “I _know_ how withdrawal feels. I knew it wasn’t just the drugs or the broken bones like Alfred tried to tell me. I’ve been broken and withdrawing before. That’s how I got sober. Croc beat me so bad I couldn’t move to find anything more to take.” Bruce clenches his fist, feeling the sheets rough between his knuckles. _Killer Croc._ Of all the people – creatures? – to get Roy sober. This poor boy had so many friends, he had family, but he found himself so low only the lowest of the low could find and help him. 

Roy gives a half-hearted laugh. “To be fair, Croc didn’t _want_ to hurt me. I wanted him to. I kept coming at him. I wanted to hurt. Eventually when he’d knocked me down so many times, he made me talk. I told him my girlfriend was pregnant and I was an addict, and he told me he was going to fix things… Then he broke my leg.” 

Roy’s eyes search Bruce’s face. “You get that, don’t you? Anything for your kids. _Anything.”_ Roy whispers. Bruce puts a firm hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Roy. I won’t let the Joker get away with it, I swear that. You, Jason, and Lian will be safe here again. Understand me?” Bruce puts everything into convincing Roy that it’s true. Making him believe that _Batman_ is going to protect him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Google Doc this is written in has officially reached page #100... And that's not even the completed fic... Well, if you wanted a novel, you're in the right place!
> 
> Oh, also, I love getting comments and sharing a commentary with you readers, so please leave comments and maybe kudos as well?


	9. Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently in this chapter I changed my mind on what to call the Batfam while they patrol, so uh... Don't mind that? Hopefully it's not terribly confusing?

“Commissioner? You called?” Nightwing says in a poor imitation of Batman’s low drawl. Batman follows him onto the rooftop, watches Nightwing approach the annoyed looking Commissioner with a massive smile on his face. Gordon softens the least bit. “Good to see you in Gotham, Nightwing, it’s been awhile.” He says, stubbing out his cigarette on the edge of the Bat Signal. 

“No cigar, Gordon?” Batman asks, walking to Gordon’s other side. He doesn’t make the Commissioner jump this time, Nightwing already having alerted him to both of their presences. Gordon scowls at him. “My daughter’s trying to make me quit, had to pick up a back-up pack tonight. I’m sure you’re aware of the Joker’s reappearance?”

Both Nightwing and Batman nod, and Nightwing’s smile drops. “Yes. He led a covert kidnapping of one of our own.” Batman tells Gordon. The Commissioner nods. “I’m aware, it was reported as a robbery, but the arrows gave things away.” Gordon says. Batman isn’t concerned about Jason and Roy’s secret identities in relation to the police, that apartment isn’t owned under their real names, if someone figures out Arsenal and Red Hood lived somewhere in Gotham, so be it. 

“Arkham’s typical residents are popping out of the woodwork now. Freeze destroyed an old evidence storage unit, Scarecrow’s apparently testing new toxins on civilians, store owners are discovering clown masks on the racks of their businesses.” Gordon explains. It’s a mix of new and old information for Batman and Nightwing. They knew about Scarecrow and Freeze, and Robin had noticed a few stores with clown masks, but the Commissioner confirmed Robin’s theories that the masks weren’t just a weird coincidence. 

Gordon folds his arms over his chest and looks at the two heroes. “What’s your plan?” He asks. Batman lets Nightwing tell him about the warehouse. Batman instead focuses on typing a quick message to Red Robin and Red Hood, telling them to grab a clown mask or two if they spot one, and pointedly adding to enter a store without breaking anything. Red Hood responds – near immediately – to tell him he’ll break a window in Batman’s stead. 

Nightwing walks over to Batman, leaning their heads close together to speak privately. “Do you want to give him a comm?” He asks. “We could set it so that it doesn’t cover Oracle’s channel.” Nightwing recommends. Batman sighs, crossing his arms and thinking on it. Nightwing rolls from his heels to the balls of his feet a few times. “Fine.” Batman says, and Nightwing immediately pulls a comm from one of the small pockets on his hips. Batman rolls his eyes at his son.  _ Of course  _ Nightwing would already have the comm all ready for Gordon before asking if it was a good idea or not.

Nightwing presses it into the palm of the Commissioner’s hand, looking all too proud of himself. “In case anything happens and a Bat isn’t on the scene as soon as you’d like.” Nightwing explains, then tilts his head to show how his comm is fixed to his ear. “The top button is to turn on your voice, so others can hear you, the other two buttons are to change channels. Penny-One can be used as a vocal override if you need immediate help.”

Gordon looks at Batman as he pockets the comm, clearly looking to see if this idea is approved by the Bat or not. Batman gives him a small nod, and Gordon looks back to Nightwing. “Thank you.” He says. “I hope I won’t need it, but I’ll call if I do.”

When they leave Gordon and head back to the Batmobile, Batman finds himself fighting to avoid Nightwing’s eye. He’s not about to give Nightwing the satisfaction of looking at the proud smirk he’s sure his son’s wearing. Nightwing climbs back onto his bike beside Robin and offers his younger brother the grin instead. Batman kicks the Batmobile into action the moment he’s in the driver’s seat. Talking with Gordon took longer than he would’ve liked.

Catwoman runs her suit’s claws down his arm. “How was the Commish?” She asks. Commissioner Gordon is probably her least favorite part of being in the Batfamily now. Selina is forever a bit of a criminal at heart, working with cops is not a thing she enjoys. “Nightwing gave him a comm link.” Batman tells her, Catwoman just laughs at how he grumbles it. He deserves it, Batman supposes, Nightwing wouldn’t have gone through with it without his approval. 

Catwoman turns on the Batmobile’s main signal, meaning everyone with their comm on can hear her. “Careful boys and girls!” She tells them, a laugh in her voice. “Gordon’s got access now!” She then turns up the volume so they can hear the variety of responses. Orphan and Spoiler are apparently without comment, but Batman gets the impression they’re in the middle of something, Oracle groans, Robin tuts, and Red Hood shouts “Nightwing, you  _ Dick!”  _

Batman shakes his head, the sound of Red Hood’s jab and then Nightwing spluttering for a retort making him grin. He glances in the rearview to watch Robin and Nightwing tailing the Batmobile on their bikes. Catwoman turned off the comms in the car, but it looks like Nightwing is still having an indignant argument with someone in his ear. Nightwing’s hands are off the bike handles and waving in the air, and Robin is scowling and saying something to him.

“How long until they leave him alone about it?” Catwoman asks once Batman is refocused on the road. He shrugs, the answer is probably never. He could tell from the tone in the responses that none of them were actually upset, minus maybe Oracle, but she’ll relax once she’s assured Gordon can’t hear her. The family  _ will,  _ however, enjoy teasing Nightwing over being the goodboy cop-by-day who desperately wants Commissioner Gordon to like him. Batman wonders distantly if he should assure Nightwing that the Commissioner  _ does,  _ in fact, like him quite a bit.

It doesn’t take them long to arrive at the Terror Textiles warehouse. Batman considers it an achievement that he only has to reprimand Robin and Nightwing, who started a game of chicken on their motorbikes, once over. Nightwing and Robin engage in a small wrestling match when they get off their bikes, most likely the conclusion to the bike-game Batman stopped. It ends with Nightwing pinning Robin’s arms behind him and threatening to set him face-first into a trash pile. 

Catwoman laughs at them, probably about to goad Nightwing into actually dropping Robin, but Batman calls a scolding “Nightwing!” That ends the game. Nightwing lets go of Robin all together, still dropping him, but at least giving him his arms so he can catch himself. Robin hurls a few Arabic curses at his brother’s back, insults Batman  _ knows  _ Nightwing understands, but he just ignores Robin. “Nightwing, come with me.” Batman tells him. “We’ll enter the warehouse through the upper windows. Robin, you and Catwoman will do a ground perimeter and  _ wait  _ for my word to enter.” 

Batman and Nightwing grapple up to a small ledge halfway up the warehouse wall. Nightwing does a preliminary look in the windows, but then shrugs as if to say he can’t make anything out. Neither can Batman, despite his cowl’s night vision, the tinted glass and dark interior is making it hard for him to see as well. Nightwing rolls his shoulders, then uses the hook of his grapple to wrench open a window. The old metal creaks and resists, but he manages it. Batman is about to say ‘me first,’ but Nightwing’s already swinging in. Batman  _ does  _ hear Nightwing land, but feels the clench of fear as the blue symbol bracketing Nightwing’s chest disappears into the dark. 

“B! Scarecrow!” Nightwing’s voice calls back up from the floor of the warehouse. Batman freezes, halfway through the broken window they were using to enter. He can’t believe he didn’t notice it before, in the dark the gas would be hard to see, but the way Nightwing disappeared into the shadows should have given it away. Batman stays still, fighting with the two sides of his mind. His logical side says to stay away from the gas, shoot a grapple to Nightwing and reassess, but the side of him that is  _ Nightwing’s father  _ is screaming at him to go get his son.

Batman growls, deep and low in his throat, digging a mask from his belt and hoping it can handle what appears to be a new version of Scarecrow’s Fear Toxin. “Catwoman! Robin! Open the doors! We need to release the gas!” He shouts into his comm, then shoots his grappling hook so it grips a point on the ceiling and leaps to the floor. The line is partially for a safe landing, and partially for a fast exit. 

This new toxin is more grey than green when dispersed in the air, it’s no wonder Batman didn’t see it at first. Now that he’s on the ground, with his suit’s thermal vision turned on, he’s somewhat able to look through the fog and find Nightwing. Nightwing is on his knees, eyes closed behind his mask, hands covering his mouth and nose in an effort to keep the toxin out of his system. Batman wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him to his feet. Nightwing’s muscles are rock-hard under his hands, showing the hero is also holding his breath. Nightwing leans into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders while continuing to cover his face with his other hand. 

“I’ve got you.” Batman assures his son, finding the grappling remote in the fog and gripping it tightly. He presses the button that tightens the line and pulls them up from the floor, then swings his weight to the window. Nightwing narrowly avoids rolling right off the ledge outside, too busy sucking in lungfuls of fresh air to fully pay attention to his surroundings. Batman puts a hand on his back to keep him from falling and looks over the ledge’s edge to see Catwoman and Robin yanking open the door below them. 

They back away the moment the door opens, letting the fog spill out into the open air. Catwoman looks up at them, but Robin doesn’t spare them a glance, he’s squinting into the dark of the warehouse with a frustrated expression. “He okay?” Catwoman calls up. With the arm hanging over the edge, Nightwing gives her a weak thumbs up, and she smiles. That smile drops immediately when Robin goes sprinting into the warehouse. 

_“Dami-_ Robin!” Catwoman corrects herself at the last second, lunging forward to try and grab for him. Batman whips around to look back in the open window, grapple at the ready. He switches back on the thermal vision for his cowl, and sees two figures fighting in the fog. One is tall, thin, and loses quickly – that’s Scarecrow – and the other is small and winning. Robin. Robin’s little figure stops to tie something to the Scarecrow, then runs for the exit again. Batman switches his cowl’s vision back to normal and turns to look at him. His youngest son falls on his hands and knees outside the building, holding out his grapple to Catwoman.

“Pull it!” Batman shouts, realizing Robin can’t speak yet. Catwoman looks up, then back to the door and seems to understand. The grapple doesn’t have the right sort of pull to drag Scarecrow along the ground, but that doesn’t seem to bother Catwoman too much, she’s strong enough to do it without the tech’s help. Nightwing, having caught his breath, scrambles down from the ledge to go to Robin’s side. Batman leaps to the ground as well and grabs Scarecrow when Catwoman pulls him from the depths of the warehouse.

Catwoman kicks Scarecrow in the shoulder. “Dammit Crane!” She hisses at him. Batman is too busy tightly tying his arms and legs to reprimand her. Nightwing scoops Robin up from the ground, cradling him like a baby and resting Robin’s forehead in the crook of his neck. Robin is shivering, his short fingers scrabbling against Nightwing’s chest, and his legs kicking spastically every few seconds. “I-I held my breath. Tried to hold my breath.” Robin whispers. Nightwing shushes him and presses a kiss to his forehead. Batman wants to scold Robin,  _ should  _ scold him for his reckless move against the Scarecrow, but now is not the right time. 

Nightwing brings Robin to the Batmobile while Batman contacts the GCPD to come and retrieve Scarecrow. Catwoman drags Scarecrow by the rough shoulders of his costume and sets him against the wall of the warehouse. The toxin from the warehouse has dispersed enough where as long as they avoid ‘clumps’ of it they should be fine. Batman gives the GCPD Scarecrow’s location and then goes to the car with Nightwing, leaving Catwoman to interrogate the villain. 

“I buckled him in tight and gave him a sedative. I wasn’t sure if I should try our antidote or not, this is a new toxin, couldn’t it react?” Nightwing explains. Robin’s in the Batmobile’s passenger seat, eyes half-lidded from the sedative, but when Batman places a hand on his chest he can feel the boy’s heart beating rapidly. An alert from the Batmobile makes Robin cry out a little, and both Nightwing and Batman give the system a death glare. 

“Come in Oracle.” Batman says. Her voice breaks through immediately, jumping from speaking to another one of the Bats to him effortlessly. “Captain Cold’s in Gotham.” Oracle says. Nightwing and Batman share a look. It’s strange, Cold in Gotham. While certainly very intelligent and dangerous, Captain Cold isn’t usually one to branch out from his city. He likes his city and his hero just fine. “He and Freeze are in the middle of a bank heist right now.” Oracle continues explaining. “I've got a message through to the Flashes, if you’re fast you can meet them there.” 

“Catwoman!” Batman barks. She jumps up from her position beside Scarecrow and jogs over. “There’s a situation downtown, the Flashes are on their way to help. I need you to take Robin home.” Catwoman nods immediately. She looks at the boy in the Batmobile, then looks around them. “I’ll take Nightwing’s bike, if it’s something Flash related you’re going to want the fastest car.” She says, unbuckling Robin from his place in the Batmobile and hugging him tight against her. He groans, but is too heavily sedated for his fear-addled body to cause her any harm. 

Batman presses a quick kiss to Catwoman’s cheek, just under the goggles that block the top half of her face, then sprints around to the drivers side of the Batmobile. Nightwing scurries into the passenger’s seat. “I’ll stay until the cops get here!” Catwoman shouts just before the car doors close on them. Batman clenches his hands on the wheel and slams the gas pedal. His mind is raising. Scarecrow in the warehouse _Joker_ led them to? A new fear toxin? Captain Cold in Gotham? This night is _not_ going as planned.


	10. Bruce

_Goddammit does Wally West need to come up with a new cover name._ Bruce thinks to himself, pressing harder on the gas pedal of the Batmobile. Both him and Barry being called ‘Flash’ makes him mix them up in his head, forces him to internally use their real names. It’s difficult to stay neutral on them when he’s thinking of his _friend_ Barry Allen, and Dick’s _best friend_ Wally West, not Flash One and Flash Two. 

Their physical differences help as well, Bruce supposes, as the Flash with a fiery-red head of hair crashes headlong into the Batmobile. Wally pries himself off of the hood of the car and gives a dirty look to the patch of ice he slipped on. Barry is faring better, running loops around Captain Cold and Mr. Freeze, attempting to make them hit each other when they try and shoot him. 

Bruce isn’t surprised by this team-up, if anything he’s surprised it hasn't happened sooner. Rivalry, probably. Both Cold and Freeze are proud villains, they wouldn’t usually be willing to try and one-up each other while also pulling a stunt of some sort. In the past they’ve been content to keep to their own cities, and fight their own heroes, but with Joker’s quiet reappearance, it seems as though every villain is being drawn to Gotham City.

Nightwing scrambles from the passenger seat of the Batmobile to jog to Wally’s side. He grips his friends arms and is immediately grasped in return. To Bruce’s ears, Wally’s mile-a-minute speech is nothing but chatter, but Nightwing can apparently pick out enough words to understand the gist of what Wally’s saying. He nods at Wally and detaches from him, patting Wally’s shoulder to send him off in his red blur of speed. 

“They’ve got hostages.” Nightwing tells Batman. “The Flashes have Cold and Freeze covered, we need to get into the bank and make sure nobodies been hurt.” Nightwing pulls his grappling hook from it’s belt loop on his hip and holds it at the ready. With a nod of communication, Batman runs left and Nightwing runs right, forming a wide circle around the battle between Freeze, Cold, and the Flashes. 

Bruce can tell Wally and Barry are struggling. This isn’t their city, it’s night, and one of these villains is unfamiliar. Wally spins out due to the ice-under-foot trick for a second time, and Barry actually gets hit by a blast from Freeze that he realistically could have dodged. Batman has to force himself to ignore that. Force himself to remember they can handle themselves and will be okay. 

“Burst in through the doors like badasses? Or sneak in?” Nightwing asks, though he’s already rounding the building because he knows the _right_ answer. Batman doesn’t spare him an eyeroll, just heads to the storage door he remembers being at the back of this bank. Nightwing will find his own entrance.

Batman leans an ear close to the doorway, listening for voices inside. “Oracle. Tell me why this bank.” He instructs her. It’s not a big bank, just one to provide services for the middle-class of Gotham. Batman is still struggling to understand why Freeze and Cold are here and not at the central bank in Old Gotham, that would be a _much_ better score. 

Oracle’s voice comes through on the comm just as Batman picks the lock and creeps his way inside. “They’re pirating a donation for Lucius Fox.” Oracle says. “It’s on it’s way to the shops downtown, help them put things back together since Ivy went through there a few weeks ago. I’m not sure how Freeze and Cold found out, he hadn’t made that public yet.” 

Batman cuts Oracle off with a “thank you for the information,” and steps into the back room. The thick metal wall at his side must be part of the vault, he figures, the rest of the room is filled with desks and chairs. A window to his side is opened, and Batman figures that was Nightwing’s entrance, though Nightwing himself is nowhere to be seen.

“B! We’ve got a bomb!” Nightwing cries from the front of the bank. Nightwing’s voice makes Batman’s heart leap into his throat for the second time that night, and he rushes to meet his son. The main entry is a mess. The doors are chained shut from the inside, the chairs in the waiting room tossed around, ice is hanging onto the walls and dripping water to the floor. Nightwing is kneeling beside two bank tellers, their hands are cuffed to a large purple box of some sort. _That must be the bomb,_ Batman figures from Nightwing’s concerned look.

“We’re going to get you out of this, I promise.” Nightwing says, setting his hand on the shoulder of one of the trapped civilians. Nightwing squats between the two civilians and looks over the box. The civilians are trapped by wire cuffs wrapped tightly around their wrists, the wires thread into the box through holes on the side. “Who put you here?” Batman asks, looking at the wires.

One of the civilians answers his question in a fear-shaken voice: “That guy, that looks kinda like Mr. Freeze? He burst in with some men with guns, they had clown masks on, threatened all of us, and they attached us to this. Told us not to move until you got here.” The civilian explains. Batman surveys the room again. The bank had thankfully been closed for the night, so there are only these two workers and another cowering in the corner. 

“Nightwing.” Batman orders, nodding his head at the woman in the corner, her shirt is bloodied. “Check on her.” Nightwing nods and walks over to her. At the same time, Batman hears a shout of _“Now!”_ from outside, and then the sound of Freeze’s gun going off. Batman stiffens, that voice was Wally’s, he has to hope whatever bid the Flashes were trying succeeded. Nightwing stands from his spot next to the woman, and looks out one of the front windows with a concerned expression.

Nightwing smiles in relief when Barry vibrates through the front door, Wally following moments later. Both speedsters look unharmed for the most part. Wally’s suit is torn at the hands, likely from slipping on ice and catching himself, and the younger speedster is walking with a slight limp. Barry brushes some ice off his shoulders, and grins at Batman. “They’re both disarmed, tied, and ready to go. We’ll be taking Cold back to Central.” Barry says. 

“She needs to get to a hospital.” Nightwing says, wiping Barry’s triumphant smile off of his face. Barry zips to Nightwing’s side and looks over the young worker that Nightwing is holding, she is breathing shallowly and bleeding from her stomach. Barry takes the woman from Nightwing, nods at Batman, and vibrates back out the door with the woman in his arms. Nightwing and Wally join Batman beside the two trapped civilians and the bomb.

Batman has been multitasking for the past two minutes, half watching the speedsters and his son, and half listening to the information Oracle and Red Robin are offering about the bomb. “I imagine the trigger has to do with how they’re cuffed.” Red Robin says. “If you move their hands, or cut the wires, it’ll likely go off.”

Batman looks at Wally. “Flash, do you think you could vibrate your molecules and replace this man in the cuffs?” He asks. Wally’s expression tightens with focus, and he nods. Nightwing sets a hand on Wally’s arm to hold him back. “Uhh… And then what? Flash blows up instead?” He argues. 

Barry re-appears in the bank, thankfully walking with heavy enough footsteps that he doesn’t make either of the bomb-attached citizens jump. “That’s smart, actually. Flash and I can put our hands in, and carry it _very carefully_ to a place it can blow up safely. We’ll be off and running before it can hurt us.” Barry explains, walking behind one of the citizens and cracking his knuckles. Nightwing still looks nervous, but less skeptical, and lets go of Wally so he can imitate Barry’s position behind the other citizen. 

“Be careful.” Batman says, clasping a hand on Barry’s shoulder. “If either of you feel off, or like you might make a mistake, _stop immediately.”_ He warns. Batman and Nightwing back off, and watch anxiously as Wally and Barry both become blurry at their edges as they start to vibrate. Years of working together have the speedsters moving in perfect synchronicity, and in a _flash,_ the civilians have been shoved back and away from the bomb, and Wally and Barry are now cuffed to it instead.

“Oracle, get me a safe location.” Batman orders, pressing his comm to hear her voice. It takes her a moment, but then she gives them a location. Nightwing pulls his comm from his ear and walks over to Wally. He cautiously pulls Wally’s cowl and lightning-bolt ear-piece away from his head so he can slip the comm onto Wally’s ear. “Careful.” Nightwing says, voice low and protective. 

Batman can practically _feel_ the anxiety radiating from Nightwing when the two Flashes disappear in a burst of light and wind. “Come. Let’s prep Freeze for Arkham.” Batman guides his son by a hand to his shoulder. _Batman_ knows that Wally and Barry are capable of this, and he’s aware that deep-down, Nightwing knows it too, but at the forefront of Nightwing’s mind must be the memory of losing Wally to the Speedforce. This is exactly what makes Batman nervous about Nightwing working with the young Flash. They’re best friends, read each other like books, and will always have each other’s backs, but Nightwing will likely never move past his fear for his friend.

An explosion cuts through Batman’s interrogation of Freeze and Cold, and Nightwing’s phone call for an ambulance for the two citizens. Nightwing fumbles the phone, the explosion is distant, but large, and Batman forces himself to ignore it. It takes several long moments for Nightwing to continue talking to the dispatcher on the phone, but he manages. Wally and Barry return with a crackle of electricity. They are hanging off of each other, both out of breath and snickering in relief. Nightwing practically flings himself at the both of them, professionalism no longer a concern, he hooks his arms around their necks and pulls them into a hug. Wally and Barry embrace him right back. 

The happiness and relief is cut short by a gasp from Barry. Batman stands immediately, whipping around to see what Barry is reacting to. Barry is looking up, into the dark Gotham clouds, at the light of the Batsignal. “Bruce, my dad.” Oracle’s voice comes through in his comm, she sounds afraid. The Batsignal isn’t right, not at all, and it sends a shiver down his spine. Instead of the dark outline of a bat, the shape in the light looks like an awful grin. 

“Flash!” Batman barks, holding out his arm to the speedster. Barry is at his side in a second, his arm around Batman’s waist and Batman’s arm over his shoulders. Batman picks up his feet before Barry starts running, he can hear the crackling of Wally beside them, but keeps his eyes screwed shut to avoid overwhelming his mind by the speed of the world going past them. Barry releases him rather clumsily on the roof of the Police Department. Batman forces himself to ignore the nausea and whiplash from the run, his cowl kept his neck from actually being whipped back, but he still feels stiff and like his organs got left behind. 

Nightwing starts shouting for the Commissioner before Wally even sets him down. While Barry just supported Batman’s weight, Wally scooped Nightwing up in his arms and is now leaning over to set Nightwing’s feet on the ground. Batman runs straight to the spotlight and the prone body beside it. He drops down on his knees and rolls the body over, to his relief, the corpse is not the Commissioner. 

“Over here!” Wally calls as Nightwing drops down beside Batman. The eye-holes of his mask are stretched wide, and his mouth is hanging open. Batman has to ignore his son’s fear and rush past him and to Wally and Barry. Barry is crouched over the Commissioner, his ear over Gordon’s lips, listening for his breathing. Barry sits up and nods “he’s out cold, but it doesn’t seem like he’s hurt otherwise.” The speedster says. 

Banging at the door to the roof announces the arrival of more cops, who flood out and start asking questions. Barry and Wally bail out when they arrive, though Wally pauses to wrap an arm around Nightwing’s shoulders and gives him a tight squeeze. The speedsters head out with promises to stay in touch, and Barry takes off in one direction to return Captain Cold to Central City while Wally takes a detour to drop Freeze off at Arkham before returning home himself. 

When Batman and Nightwing are finally able to get back into the Batmobile, post assuring that Gordon wakes up, and answering the cop’s questions, Nightwing admits that he’d met and worked with the dead cop while working as officer Dick Grayson.


	11. Bruce

“Jaybird. Babe.  _ Please _ . There's a way to do this that doesn’t involve embarrassing me.” Roy says. He’s sitting up on the edge of the medical bed, hands held straight out in front of him to block Jason’s attempts to carry him. Bruce shares a glance with Alfred. This conversation has already gone on too long. Alfred had started weaning Roy off of his sleeping-medications that morning, and now he’s wide awake and fending off all Jason’s attempts to carry him upstairs to their room.

Bruce forces down the smile that creeps up on him.  _ Their room.  _ The Indigo Suite isn’t that anymore, it’s Jason and Roy’s room. Jason’s called it that himself twice over now. “Roy.” Jason practically pleads. He’s just changed out of his Red Hood attire, showered, and now is in a tank top and sweatpants. “Just let me do it. I’ll get you up there fast, and that way there’s no chance of you getting hurt.”

Roy snorts loudly, then leans forward to yank Jason’s tank top up to expose his stomach and rib cage. “How about  _ you  _ getting hurt? Have you seen your abs lately?” Roy scolds. He makes a point. Jason’s body is as scarred as usual, something that makes Bruce feel cold, but the scars are also marred by dark bruising across his ribs and stomach. 

“Master Bruce.” Alfred says in a low voice, a hand on Bruce’s back shoving him in Jason and Roy’s direction. Bruce sighs, then walks to Roy’s side. Bruce sits at the edge of the bed and wraps a careful arm around Roy’s waist. “Here.” Bruce says. “I’ll hold you up on one side, Jason, you take the other.” Jason glares at him for a long moment, then sighs heavily and moves to lift Roy from his other side.

That way of carrying Roy goes well until they’re about two-thirds of the way up the grand staircase. Roy slips off a step, and the arm he has hooked over Bruce’s shoulders catches, pulling the bandages holding his broken collarbone in place. Roy lets out an audible gasp of pain when it happens, letting go of Bruce and cringing into Jason’s side reflexively. Roy doesn’t bother trying to argue or come up with a cover-up joke, he just softens and lets Jason scoop him up. Jason sets his jaw and carries Roy the rest of the way, Bruce guiltily tagging along. 

Bruce slides in front of Jason to open the door for them, and Jason actually offers him a little nod of thanks. Roy looks embarrassed and stiff when set down on the bed, immediately curling in on himself and looking at the wall. It surprises Bruce a little, Roy is usually pretty confident. Jason brushes Roy’s hair out of his face and crouches down in front of him. “You okay? Did your collar get pulled too bad?” Jason asks. Roy shakes his head, meeting Jason’s eyes after a while and offering him a smile. 

“Can I get either of you anything?” Bruce asks. Roy and Jason glances over at him as though they both sort of forgot he was there. Roy forces a grin at Bruce. “No. Thank you though, Bruce.” Roy says. Bruce smiles at them, and leaves quietly, closing the door behind him.

Bruce makes his way down the dark hallway. He carefully checks in on his children as he walks through. Cassandra’s bedroom door is cracked open, as it usually is, and when he peaks in he sees her and Stephanie snuggled up together under the covers. Both of their heads are covered by Stephanie’s mass of blond hair, but neither of them seem to mind. While leaving Cassandra’s bedroom Bruce absentmindedly wonders if he should warn Alfred he’ll have one more person to feed in the morning, but then figures that Alfred is likely perfectly aware of Stephanie’s presence. 

Bruce stops in front of Duke’s door. Duke, Cass, and now Jason are the ones with bedrooms on this side of the grand staircase. Bruce and the rest of his children’s rooms are on the other sides. Bruce resists the temptation to check on Duke, not wanting to wake him by opening the door, then makes his way to the other hallway of bedrooms. 

Damian’s door is shut tight. Bruce pauses at it, listening closely and quickly recognizing the scrabbling sound from it being the sound of Titus trying to escape. Bruce huffs a laugh and opens the door to let the dog out. Titus slides by him and heads right for the stairs, probably for the dog door that Bruce had installed despite Alfred’s protests. Bruce peeks into Damian’s room. He’s not surprised to see Dick is there with him. Alfred had assured them that the effects of the fear toxin Damian had been hit with weren’t too bad, but there’s really no stopping Dick from being protective of Damian.

Dick is laying on his back on top of Damian’s blankets, he’s halfway propped-up by pillows and his face is illuminated by the light from his phone. Damian isn’t facing Dick, but he is laying so his back is pressed against Dick’s side. “Why didn’t you let the dog out?” Bruce asks, keeping his voice low in hopes of not waking Damian. Dick yawns and sets his phone down on his chest. “I knew you’d do it, I could hear you making your rounds. Are Roy and Jason okay?” Dick questions.

Bruce walks over to Damian’s side of the bed, checking on his son. Damian’s little face is pinched despite him being asleep, and Bruce reaches out to brush his fingers over Damian’s cheek. “They’re alright.” Bruce answers Dick. “Jason and I got Roy upstairs, I think he’ll sleep better in a real bed.” Damian’s expression softens slowly from Bruce’s attention, and his youngest son lets out a sleepy huff in his sleep.

Dick nods at him. He sets his phone on the bedside table and slides his legs under the blankets, shifting around until the pillows are adjusted and the blanket pulled up and over both him and Damian. Dick tosses a protective arm over Damian’s side, earning a little grunt from Damian. Bruce stands, wishes them both a good night, and tries not to think about how bittersweet it is to see them together. 

_ Of course,  _ Bruce is happy that Dick and Damian are so close, but it still hurts a little. When Bruce ‘died’ it was Dick that cared for Damian. Dick that softened him, taught him being a child was alright, that Damian didn’t have to be what the League of Assassins wanted him to be. Bruce knows Damian is fully aware that Bruce is his father, but he also knows that Damian sees Dick as not just an older brother, but something between a parent and sibling. Like it or not, Dick brought out the best in Damian, and they formed a bond that Bruce and Damian will never quite match. 

Bruce gets the occasional hug from Damian, and he’s certainly allowed to touch his son, but Damian doesn’t reach out to Bruce like he does to Dick. Bruce doesn’t get to man-handle Damian, doesn’t get to snuggle him, or pepper him with kisses and acts of love. Dick _does_ get to do that. As much as Damian grumbles about it, anyone could tell that Damian really does relish in Dick’s constant affection, and regularly seeks it out. Bruce clenches his fists and forces down the stab of jealousy in his heart. He knows better. He knows he should just be grateful to Dick. He wanted Dick to be better than him, wanted him to be _good,_ and Bruce should be pleased that he got just that.

Bruce leaves Damian’s bedroom door open, knowing Titus will likely want back in, and heads to his own bedroom. He doesn’t check on Tim, not wanting to risk waking Tim if he  _ is  _ asleep, and not wanting to argue with his son if he isn’t asleep. Selina rolls over to face Bruce when he slips into their bed, her eyes are still closed, but he’s sure she’s awake. Bruce lays on his back and looks up to the ceiling. He’s tired, he’d like to get a few hours of sleep, but a part of him knows sleeping tonight won’t be easy. 

“You think so _loudly.”_ Selina murmurs, sliding an arm over him. He glances over at her, her green eyes are searching his face, one of her dark eyebrows cocked in a questioning way. Bruce shakes his head at her. “How does one _think_ loudly?” He asks. She rolls her eyes at him. “What’s on your mind?” She responds, ignoring his question. 

Bruce runs his hands back through his hair. “It’s nothing. Really.” He tells her. It’s not that he _can’t_ explain his thoughts to her, she’d listen and give him good, if scathing, advice. He just doesn’t want to, not now. Sometimes wallowing in his thoughts is exactly what he wants to do. Selina gives him a dark, annoyed look, then pulls her arm off his waist and rolls over to face away from him. Bruce deserves that, he supposes, and closes his eyes in an attempt to sleep. 


	12. Jason

Jason didn’t realize how used to sharing a bed he was until he spent a week alone. He could hardly sleep without Roy there, instead wandering the Manor drowsily, or ending up on the edge of Roy’s cot in the cave. Tim sometimes joined him in his walks, unable to sleep himself, and they’d pace the dark hallways unused by even their large family. Tim’s presence was a blessing in disguise, keeping Jason from being overwhelmed by guilt and anxiety, bad and good memories of the Manor and his past, his little brother distracted him with smiles and jokes and kept him lighter.

Jason wakes up to the Indigo Suite’s blank walls and aptly colored bedding, Roy’s laying beside him, the reason Jason actually slept through the night. Roy is on his back, splayed out like a starfish, breathing deeply. Jason smirks at him, pushing himself up on his elbows to look him over. Jason is so glad Alfred insisted they move Roy upstairs. Sure, the butler said it was to make reaching him easier, but Jason knows Alfred was doing it for him. 

Jason being awake before Roy is pretty typical. Despite the fact that he usually goes to sleep  _ after  _ Roy, he’s almost always awake first. Jason’s just too conditioned to little to no sleep to allow himself to sleep in. Waking up beside Roy, seeing him peaceful and in a normal bed instead of a hospital cot, is a relieving return to normalcy for Jason. 

“I can  _ feel  _ you staring at me, Jaybird.” Roy’s voice pulls Jason from his thoughts. Jason pulls his eyes away from where they were caught on Roy’s face while he zoned out. “Morning.” Jason grumbles to him, rolling onto his back and sitting up. Roy moves to sit up himself, but Jason stops him. He tugs up a pillow to cushion Roy’s back, then reaches under Roy’s arms and pulls him into a sitting position. Roy gives him a dirty look, but then takes the opportunity of Jason leaning close to him to move forward and give him a quick kiss. 

Jason laughs and indulges him, hooking an arm around Roy’s good side and pulling him close. When he’s able to talk again Roy immediately teases him. “Aww, you gettin’ sentimental on me, Jaybird?” He asks. Jason shoves him away by a palm to his face, and Roy just laughs and coos at him some more. Jason turns away from him, he can feel his face heating up, but he’s not about to give Roy the satisfaction of showing how much Jason  _ missed  _ him.

Jason gets out of bed and stands. He stretches his arms high above his head, feeling his muscles pull and one of his shoulders crack. He rolls the other one, attempting to get the same result and failing. “I’ll find you some clothes.” Jason says, moving to the dresser. Cassandra and Alfred had stopped at their apartment – after Bruce investigated it and deemed it safe and the evidence in it covered – and picked up some stuff for Jason and Roy. Jason finds a pair of Roy’s boxers, his favorite pair of worn-out jeans, and a t-shirt for Roy and tosses them back to him. Jason digs out a pair of black jeans and a dark polo for himself and pulls them on. The polo is a bit tight over his shoulders, and upon giving it a second glance Jason realizes it might be an old shirt of Dick’s, probably put in his drawer by Alfred. Jason rolls his eyes, he really needs to tell Alfred to stop doing that. It’s sort of sweet, Alfred’s weird way of trying to make sure Jason has things at the Manor, but Dick’s clothes don’t even  _ fit  _ Jason. 

Roy manages his own boxers and jeans despite his hurt leg, but he can only get the shirt halfway on before groaning and looking at Jason rather pathetically. Jason laughs at him, which draws a pained smile from Roy himself, then Jason walks over to help him with his shirt. Roy winces a few times, but with Jason pulling and maneuvering the fabric he’s able to get the arm on his bad side through its sleeve. _“Thank you.”_ Roy says, rather sarcastically. Jason stands in front of him, hands on his hips.

“No Bruce to save you this time.” Jason tells him. “I’m carrying you.” Roy rolls his eyes, but begrudgingly lets Jason tug him to the edge of the bed, then wraps his good arm around Jason’s shoulders. Jason curls an arm under the crook of Roy’s knees, the other arm around Roy’s waist, then stands and lifts him. Jason smirks at Roy in his arms, enjoying the annoyed glare he gets in response. Roy’s weight against his chest makes his aching ribs smart a bit, but he’ll survive. 

Roy squirms his way out of Jason’s arms once they’re down the stairs, stubbornly saying he’s going to walk the rest of the way. Jason keeps an arm around him, carrying most of his weight, and they head towards the kitchen. Jason pauses about halfway down the hall. He can’t hear any sounds from the kitchen, which is strange. It’s not too early in the morning, and he’s got a  _ big  _ family, there’s no way they wouldn’t be making noise. “I think they’re down there.” Roy says, nodding his head towards the sitting room. 

The TV is on in the sitting room, and almost the whole family is gathered around it. Selina, Duke and Bruce sit on the couch, Damian leans against the back of it, Alfred is by the archway. Everyone else is scattered across the floor or other furniture, the only surprisingly missing person is Dick. Jason looks at the TV, it’s displaying a Gotham news report. A reporter is speaking rapidly, and Jason doesn’t bother trying to keep up with her, just reads the subtitle at the bottom of the screen:  _ Joker’s resurgence sees Gotham shunned. _

“Anything change?” Dick’s voice preludes him stumbling into the living room. He’s in his Bludhaven Police Department uniform, and is hopping on one foot while pulling a boot onto his other foot. Alfred doesn’t comment about the shoes on the carpet, just goes over to Dick and starts fixing the buttons on his shirt. Dick whirls his arms in the air when he gets no answer from his family. 

Jason casts his eyes to Bruce, looking for an answer himself. “GCPD sent out a press release early this morning about the Joker’s re-appearance.” Bruce explains, the preliminary details likely for Jason and Roy’s sake. “Reporters were going to jump on it soon as it was, so the GCPD decided to get out ahead of things. Unfortunately, America has responded by bringing up the years in which Gotham was cut off from the rest of the world.”

Jason shakes his head. It doesn’t surprise him. The Joker _scares_ people, as he should, but apparently he scares protesters enough to suggest they cut Gotham off once again. Last time the reasoning was an earthquake and then a rise in crime, something Jason himself wasn’t around for, but heard plenty about from his family, but now just the Joker on his own is enough for the idea to be suggested again.

“Luthor?” Cassandra asks. She and Stephanie are sitting on the floor in front of the TV, Stephanie has an arm over her shoulders. Bruce shakes his head, sparing a glance when the shrill ring of Dick’s phone cuts through the room. “No. Luthor hasn’t made any comments yet.” Bruce says to Cassandra, reminding Jason of how Lex Luthor butted in on Gotham and Batman business after the earthquake. Luthor had saved the city on some level, they all have to begrudgingly admit that much, but he’d done it to fulfill his usual seedy motivations and not out of the ‘goodness’ of his heart.

Dick smashes his phone between his cheek and shoulder to answer it. He tugs away from Alfred and shoves his other socked foot into his boot while talking. The TV switches from the face of a reporter to the helicopter view of a bridge extending between Bludhaven and Gotham. There are protestors gathering on both sides, and police between them, trying to keep the citizens of the sister cities’ from clashing. That explains why Dick is rushing to get out the door, the BPD cops are clearly greatly outnumbered by their citizens. 

“Master Richard.” Alfred says in a surprisingly sensitive tone. “Do be careful, sir.” The butler steps away from Dick, and Dick flashes him a smile before rushing to the front door. Alfred pauses and fidgets for a moment after the door slams behind Dick, then he turns to Bruce. “Master Bruce?” Alfred asks. 

Bruce nods and holds up his phone. “I got him, Alfred. Don’t worry.” He assures.  _ Creepy. I wonder if my bike’s got a tracker.  _ Jason thinks, quickly deciding he’ll have to check it over the next time he rides it. Alfred seems to be relaxed by Bruce’s words. He plants his hands low on his hips and surveys the room. “Masters and Missuses. I will make an exception to the no television in the kitchen rule, if only you will all go to the kitchen and eat.” Alfred suggests.

Duke gets up from his spot on the couch beside Bruce, and Stephanie and Cassandra help each other up from the floor. “Ah!” Alfred tuts, raising a hand and waving it at Duke, who is wearing only a blue pair of sweatpants. “You’ll all dress yourselves first. No better way to be ready for the day than clothes and breakfast.” Alfred instructs, turning on his heel and marching to the kitchen. Damian follows, the Bat-Brat is unsurprisingly already dressed and ready for the day, his hair is even gelled into its typical spiky style. 

Jason gets a better grip on Roy’s waist to take some of his weight. “See?” Jason teases. “I told you he’d want us dressed.” Roy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t make helping him more difficult. Jason sets Roy on a bar stool at the counter once they’re in the kitchen. Then Jason makes his way around the counter to Alfred’s side. “How can I help, Alfie?” Jason asks, washing his hands. Alfred gives him a pleased look, then takes a step back, thinking.

Jason ends up making more eggs that Saturday morning than he’s ever made in his life. Scrambled, over-easy, hard-boiled, different eggs for different people’s preferences. Alfred makes pancakes and oatmeal. It’s enough food to feed a small army, but Jason guesses that is sort of what their family is. People drift in and out of the kitchen. Tim comes in to eat, drink more coffee than Jason thought possible, then head to Wayne Enterprises with Bruce. Duke, Stephanie, and Cassandra spend the most time in the kitchen, Duke and Stephanie talking easily despite the tension created by the news report, and then the three of them head out. 

Damian stays at the counter the whole time, eating slowly and glaring down at the ceramic tile under his plate. Jason knows him and Dick were supposed to spend today together, Damian had been talking about an arcade last night before patrol. Now the boy just looks angry and sullen. He hardly responds to Selina or Roy when they try to strike up a conversation, and ignores Titus’s whining for food. Jason honestly can’t tell if this is just the  _ true  _ childish side of Damian coming out, or if there’s more to it

Jason groans internally. With Golden-Boy gone, the big-brother role has unfortunately fallen to him. “Damian. C’mere.” He says. Damian’s eyes snap up, and he looks over to where Jason is washing dishes. Damian hops down from his stool and carries over his plate, scraping his leftovers into the compost and earning a disappointed huff from Titus. “I can take you to the arcade.” Jason comments, pushing a towel and wet plate into Damian’s hands.

Damian blinks, holding the dripping plate over the floor for several long seconds. Jason desperately tries to think of a joke to cover for his niceness, he doesn’t like the mystified look on Damian’s face or the smirks he can just  _ feel  _ coming from Roy and Selina. Damian finally snaps out of it and starts aggressively drying the plate. “That’s just fine, Todd. It is only an arcade, I’ll survive without it.” Damian dismisses him. 

Jason hands him another cleaned plate. “Alright. If you’re so fine with it, then why are you being an asshole? Golden Boy will hang out with you another day.” Jason comments. 

“I’m  _ not  _ upset about Richard’s absence.” Damian responds angrily.

“Fine! It’s not about the arcade!” Jason raises his soap covered hands in mock-surrender. “I’m just trying to hold a conversation with you, Demon-Brat, you could help me out here.”

Damian holds Jason’s gaze for so long that Jason’s eyes start to hurt, then he returns to drying plates. Damian’s scowl is deeper now, his jaw shifting back and forth as he grinds his teeth and thinks. They’re finished washing and drying the dishes by the time Damian talks again. “I don’t like how people are reacting to this. They can’t just…  _ Shun Gotham.”  _ Damian says, his voice soft. “This is nowhere near the first time people have seen the Joker, and we always catch him. Batman takes him down. Why aren’t people just expecting that?” 

Jason stiffens. He doesn’t know what to say to that, he just  _ gets it  _ a little too well. There is no one Jason is more afraid of or angry with than the Joker. Despite all his promises and growth, Jason can’t even guarantee he wouldn’t kill the Joker if given the opportunity. While Gotham is  _ his  _ city, and he doesn’t like how people are treating it, he also can’t blame them for their fear. 

“You’re making all the right points, Damian. Unfortunately logic doesn’t work against people who are scared, and the Joker  _ is  _ worth being scared of.” Selina says. She’s sitting on the counter beside Roy, sipping at her cup of coffee. Damian looks at her, unsure. Jason’s watched him struggle around her already. Damian likes Selina, Jason can tell that much, and her marriage to Bruce makes her his stepmother, but due to Damian’s loyalty to Talia, he’s not quite sure how to feel and act around Selina.

“I agree with the lady.” Roy says, nodding in Selina’s direction. “You'll catch Joker, and this will blow over. It’ll be alright, Damian.” Roy gives Damian a gentle smile, but Damian just glares back. The 5th Robin’s face is flushed red, and he’s chewing on his bottom lip. Clearly, all the affection and reassurance – from people who aren’t Dick, no less – is a little overwhelming for Damian. 

Jason’s phone vibrating loudly across the counter interrupts the silence and gives Damian the opportunity to slink away. Jason picks it up, flipping it over to see the caller ID and then holding up the phone so Roy and Selina can see it as well. He answers the call with a “hey, Dinah,” and is immediately greeted in return.

“Hey, Jason!” Dinah says. She always sounds happy to talk to him, though Jason’s not totally sure why. “So, y’know how I’m coming by to visit Roy today? I was wondering if I could bring Lian. She really misses you two, and she won’t stop talking about you both. If Roy isn’t feeling well enough, she’ll survive with Ollie as a babysitter.”

Jason rolls his shoulders, looking over at Roy and trying to figure out his condition. Roy looks a little tense, probably from the lack of heavy-duty pain medication, but he also looks awake and alert, and he’s smiling at Jason. “Yeah, Dinah. I think bringing Lian is a good idea.” Jason says, raising his voice a little to make sure Roy is aware of the idea. Roy’s face lights up at Lian’s name, and Jason knows he’s made a good choice. 

Jason and Dinah figure out the details over a few minute long conversation. Selina comments that Lian will probably want to see her ‘Uncle Dick’ so they should wait until he’s home from work, and Alfred points out that Lian should really see the  _ whole  _ family, and that’s how Jason ends up inviting Dinah over for dinner. Jason hangs up his phone to see three grinning faces. Roy is excited to see his daughter and Dinah, Selina is happy because Roy and Alfred are, and Alfred’s just pleased that they’re actually having  _ guests.  _

The rest of the day leading up to Dinah and Lian’s arrival is quiet. Jason isn’t used to feeling this relaxed, especially not in  _ Wayne Manor,  _ but he feels calm and comfortable for most of the day. 

Jason spends the morning making food with Alfred, first prepping lunch, and then the few things they can prepare for dinner this early in the day. At around noon, after eating, Roy is clearly losing steam, so Jason and Selina help him up to their bedroom to rest. Naturally, Roy wraps himself around Jason like a sloth and makes him stay for an hour or so. Jason isn’t particularly tired, so he reads the news on his phone held in his free hand and keeps the other arm around Roy.

Once Jason is able to extract himself from Roy’s grip without waking him, Jason heads down to the cave. He looks over the images of the goons he and Tim fought last night. Tim had asked him to identify and categorize them to the best of his abilities. Some of Jason’s knowledge from working in the Gotham underground helps him, and he’s able to mark a few goons as belonging to Penguin or Riddler off of memory alone. The rest take digging through the cave’s database, but he manages to finish the task Tim assigned him before the teen comes home. 

Jason even spars with  _ Damian.  _ He tries to ignore the kid when he first comes down into the cave, but he can  _ feel  _ Damian’s eyes on him, and Jason needs to stretch out himself, so he starts the sparring match by tackling Damian into the mats. At first Damian is totally taken off-guard, yelping in surprise and not managing any sort of defensive position before Jason has him pinned. Jason bursts into laughter immediately, meaning Damian is easily able to wiggle out of his giggle-weakened grip. Damian gives him a dirty look, his face red from the embarrassment of being caught.

It doesn’t surprise Jason when Damian is good enough to knock him on his ass more than once. It’s embarrassing, sure, being beaten by the thirteen year-old Baby-Bat, but Damian’s been trained by the League of Assassins, Nightwing, and  _ Batman.  _ He’d better be good at that point. Luckily for Jason’s ego, he wins against his little brother just as many times as he loses, and, more importantly, he discovers that Damian is  _ ticklish.  _

Jason doesn’t think about it, not really, he just wants Damian off of him at one point, so he reaches out and digs his fingers into Damian’s stomach. Damian lets out a sharp bark of a laugh that sounds like a miniature version of Bruce’s guffaw, then rolls away with another giggle when Jason tickles him again. This discovery naturally has Jason launching an attack on his little brother. He pins Damian under him, resting a good amount of his weight on Damian so he can’t escape, then tickles him until the boy is gasping for air through his laughter.

It’s only Tim and Bruce walking down into the cave that saves Damian. Both of them stare dumb-founded at Jason and Damian. Jason is sitting back from his little brother, and Damian is curled on his side trying to catch his breath. A small smile creeps over Bruce’s face, and Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture. 

“So, Jay, you finish identifying the pictures I gave you?” Tim asks, grinning. Jason smiles back, he doesn’t mind the ‘Jay’ nickname, not from Tim at least. Jason stands and follows Tim to the computer, showing Tim what he got done, his little brother stands close enough to bump into him when he leans one way or another. Jason is getting used to this, the casual closeness his family initiates. He was used to it with Dick, because that’s just how Dick is, but Tim, Duke, and Cass were a new experience. Duke actually gave him a hug when he and Roy first started staying at the Manor, Cass frequently wraps both her arms around one of his and gives him a squeeze, and Tim stands about as close as he physically can without actually touching Jason. It’s… Nice. Something Jason could, and sort of  _ wants  _ to get used to.

Bruce and Damian clean up the sparring mats, putting away the bo staffs Damian wanted to practice with, and then reorganizing the weapons when Damian decides they aren’t quite right. Tim and Jason discuss the case, and Jason tries not to get annoyed with the clanging of Damian working with the weapons in the background. Eventually Alfred interrupts them all with a call from upstairs, saying “Miss Lance and Miss Lian are here.”

Dick comes in with Dinah and Lian. He’s already got Lian in his arms, and she is excitedly saying “Uncle Dick!” while wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. Dick is all smiles, but Jason only needs to glance at him to see how tired he is. His skin has taken on an almost greyish hue, his blue eyes are dull and ringed by dark circles, and his BPD uniform is wrinkled and dirty. He doesn’t even fake being upset when Lian launches herself out of his arms in favor of hugging Jason. 

“Jay-Jay!” Lain squeals, wiggling free of Dick’s grip, and sprinting across the hallway to hug him. Jason goes down to one knee on the floor and opens his arms for her. He can feel everyone's eyes on him, Bruce, Tim, Dick, Damian, all watching him closely, but he doesn’t care. A week of uncertainty has been too long to not see Lian, too long to not hold her. Lian, with all her age-inappropriate wisdom, doesn’t try to escape when he hugs her a little too tight and for a little too long. Instead she just buries her face in the crook of his neck and squeezes her arms where they are wrapped around him. 

Jason lets her go after a minute or so, tugging her back so he can look at her face. Lian looks far more like her mother than she does like Roy. She’s got Jade’s dark eyes and hair, her tan skin, but Lian’s freckles and cheerful little smirk  _ do  _ belong to Roy. “I missed you baby-girl! Can you tell?” Jason exclaims. Lian nods vigorously, then looks over his shoulder and around the hallway. Her face drops and she tugs at the collar of his shirt. “Where’s daddy?” Lian asks. 

Jason laughs, standing up and holding out his hand for her. She immediately wraps her hand around as many of his fingers as she can fit in her grip. Dinah comes to Jason’s other side, giving him a little glare that clearly says  _ where was my greeting?  _ And presses a kiss to his cheek that he’s sure leaves a black lipstick mark. Well, it’s solid revenge, there’s no wiping it off without being rude. “How is he?” Dinah asks, voice soft. Jason glances over his shoulder, Dick is acting as a good distraction for Bruce and his brothers, meaning he gets a moment alone with Dinah. 

“He’s alright. Just tired. Alfred said that’s normal, he’s got a lot of healing to do and the meds make him drowsy.” Jason explains. Dinah nods, she still looks concerned, but there’s no stopping that. Lian lets go of him and takes off up the stairs at the site of Alfred the Cat, Dinah opens her mouth the scold Lian, but the cat is luckily pretty used to people rushing around the Manor, and doesn’t do much more than back up a few steps so Lian doesn’t barrel into it. 

Lian pets Alfred the Cat, cooing “good kitty” to him, until Jason and Dinah reach the top of the stairs. Jason shoos the cat away once he’s close enough. He’s no cat person, and this particular cat has scratched him twice over in the span of a week. Sure enough, Alfred the Cat hisses at him, and waltzes off down the hall. 

“Lian?” Roy’s voice comes from their room, and Lian darts to the sound. She can hardly reach the handle, but still manages to open the door and scurry in before Jason can catch her. “Lian, sweetheart, you need to be careful with him.” Jason tries, but Lian is already in the bed sitting in Roy’s lap. Roy’s face is buried in Lian’s dark hair, his shoulders are shaking, her arms are wrapped around his neck, and she’s patting his back gently. 

Dinah walks around the edge of the bed and sits beside Roy. She slides an arm around his waist and leans her head on his shoulder. Jason stands back, watching them, watching until Lian notices his absence and pulls back to make grabby hands at him. Jason sits beside Roy, on the opposite side of his legs from Dinah, and rests a hand on Lian’s back. Satisfied with his closeness, she goes right back to hugging Roy, and Jason leans his forehead against the top of Roy’s head. _No one can get Roy or Lian now, they’re safe,_ Jason realizes. He’s got his family in the safest, best place they could be: Wayne Manor, the home of the goddamn _Batman._


	13. Dick

Dick relishes in patrol that night. Sure, he loves his job, loves the Manor, loves seeing Lian, but the freedom that comes from sprinting from rooftop to rooftop in the cool Gotham air? _Nothing_ can quite beat that. 

Dick had run into Dinah and Lian on his way home from work. His heart felt ready to burst when Lian squealed and leapt into his arms, calling him “Uncle Dick.” He lost her attention rather quickly to Jason, but that was fine with him, seeing the look on his younger brother’s face when Lian ran to him? It was priceless. 

They had to wait to go over patrol plans and other information until Lian went to sleep. Dick could tell that Jason was torn between staying with Roy and Lian, and joining them on patrol, but a knowing smile from Roy sent him down to the cave. Dick had no hesitation in letting out an excited whoop when Bruce suggested he, Tim, and Jason team up to go after a lead Oracle had found them. Tim looked excited as well, and while he tried to hide it with an eye-roll, Jason was smiling too. 

A loud smacking sound and burst of laughter breaks Dick out of his thoughts. He stutters to a halt at the edge of a rooftop and turns to look at his brothers. Red Robin is laughing, eye-holes of his mask wide as Red Hood takes a swipe at him. Red Robin goes streaking past Dick, calling “tag! You’re it!” Over his shoulder to Jason. Jason shakes his head, but Dick is sure he’s grinning under his helmet. 

Jason stalks towards him, and Dick immediately realizes what he’s planning. “Oh no you don’t!” Dick crows, shooting his grappling hook to attach to the next, taller building. He swings himself across the gap between the two buildings before Jason can catch him, and scrambles up the side of the wall and onto the roof. “Run, Red!” Dick shouts to Tim, who’s hesitating at the roof’s edge. “He’s out for blood!” 

That’s how the brothers make their way to Gotham General Hospital. They run and grapple from building to building, playing tag as they go. Jason tags Tim after they stop a mugger together, then after getting sick of chasing Dick, they work together to trip him up and Tim tags him. Dick cries something about cheating while Jason traps him in a headlock and Tim jabs him in the stomach, but he’s laughing too hard to _actually_ make any comments on the rules of tag. 

Finally, when they reach the roof of the hospital, Dick raises his arms in surrender. He’s sure Jason is grinning at him under the helmet, and Dick gives him a playful shove. Tim snaps right out of game mode and into work mode, opening the tiny computer-esc device attached to his wrist and typing some information into it. 

“He’s awake now, right? No cops around?” Jason asks about the man they plan to interrogate. He was one of the Joker’s goons who attacked Roy, one of the few Roy managed to land a hit on. For the past several days the man has been under heavy guard and investigation by the police, but now that they’ve wrapped up their questioning the Bats are moving in to do their own interrogation.

Tim hums in response to Jason’s question, too busy putzing with his wrist computer to answer the question. Dick rolls back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet, waiting for Tim to remember they are there. “No cops, I fixed the nurse schedule, and he’s done with surgeries.” Tim comments after a long moment. “So, uh, yeah. He’s all ours.”

Dick walks to the edge of the roof, leaning over the barrier rail to look at the walls and windows. Tim goes over the edge first, grapple-hook caught to the guard rail, and tied to his belt to keep him safe as he slips down the wall. Dick and Jason imitate his equipment usage and follow him. Tim cuts through one of the windows with a tiny laser of sorts, then tips the glass sheet back into his hands to stop it from shattering, and sets it on the window sill. After that they all slip into the hospital room. 

Tim crosses the room and hovers by the door, keeping an eye out the small window. Dick stays by their entrance-hole, and Jason walks over to the bed. He carefully picks up the clipboard of information beside the bed and glances it over, then he lifts the clipboard into the air and drops it on the goon’s legs. Jason snaps a gloved hand over his mouth before he can cry out, and lifts a shushing finger to where his mouth is hidden behind the helmet. 

The man stops struggling after a moment, his wide eyes looking at Tim and Dick, then back to Jason. “Are you done?” Jason asks, voice low and threatening. The man nods, and Jason pulls his hand away. Dick always thinks of Jason as his _little_ brother, his _Little-_ wing, but Jason isn’t little, not anymore. He cuts an impressive and frightening figure. He stands straight at the edge of the bed, reaching for his helmet and removing it. Jason still wears a domino mask underneath the helmet, so his identity _is_ hidden, but Dick is glad to be able to see enough of his face to read his emotions.

Jason sits down in the chair beside the bed. He clasps his hands underneath his chin and rests his elbows on his knees, the white eye-holes of his mask fixed on Joker’s goon. “Alright, Charles.” Jason says, casting another glance at the clipboard. “You ready to answer some questions for me and my brothers here?” The goon, Charles, nods shakily and fearfully in answer to Jason’s demands. A part of Dick almost feels bad for him, he looks terrified, but that part of Dick is quickly shut down by the image of Roy kidnapped, tied to a chair, and bleeding. Dick forces himself to stop thinking about that, to stop hearing Jason’s strangled, fearful cry of _“Roy!?”_ when they found him, he makes himself stop seeing Roy’s broken body in Jason’s arms… If Dick keeps thinking that way, he’ll hurt this man as badly as Jason was threatening to. 

Dick feels an odd burst of pride, watching Jason interrogate Charles. He remembers when Jason was Robin, brand new to the role, reading _flashcards_ of questions to ask criminals. He’s developed a good technique, somewhere between Batman and Dick himself. He’s big, dark, and scary like Batman, but he’s also able to start a rapport like Dick can. Tim takes notes on his wrist-computer as Jason asks questions, and he and Dick switch places so that Dick can keep an eye out and Tim can write. 

After half an hour of asking questions, with Jason nearing satisfied with their information, and Charles clearly running out of energy, despite being impressively cooperative, Dick hears a massive crash from down the hall. The lights go out throughout the hospital, plunging them into darkness. Dick yanks open the door, switching his mask’s lenses so they adjust to the dark, and steps cautiously into the hallway. A massive figure approaches him, lumbering down the hall. Dick’s heart rattles in his chest. The figure's skin is pale, almost grey, his hair long and blonde and far back from his face, he is wearing a wide sneer of a grin. He is Blockbuster, he is supposed to be dead.

Dick freezes. Stops like a deer in headlights. His mind is blank, instincts gone, he can hardly remember where he is. Suddenly he feels five years younger, he’s patrolling as Nightwing in Bludhaven for the first time, and meeting the man who would be his nemesis for nearly a year. The man that would break Dick in more ways than he’d ever like to admit, break him until he broke Batman’s one rule. He killed this man. 

Blockbuster takes a step towards him, a smile spreading over his bulbous face. Dick can vaguely hear Tim screaming for him to move in the background, but he can’t listen. He’s frozen. Something wraps hard around his stomach and yanks him back, snapping him back into the present. “C’mon” Jason’s voice in his ear, arm around Dick’s body. Dick twists in his grasp, turning around and pounding down the hallway after Tim. 

Tim bursts through a set of doors at the end of the hall, Dick hot on his heels, and starts pounding up the stairs towards the roof. Dick can hear Jason slow behind them, hear the gunshots ring out. Dick stumbles onto the landing in his attempt to look back at Jason, and finds himself on his hands and knees on the concrete stairs. He feels like he’s going to puke, he can practically see this similar setting morphing into the staircase where Blockbuster died. Imaginary blood seeps across the floor towards his hands, and Dick turns his head to the side to dry heave into the corner. 

“What the hell is happening to him!?” Jason shouts, his hands are rough on Dick’s arms, yanking him to his feet. He can hear the fear and concern in Jason’s voice, see it in Tim’s face when his brother grabs the sides of Dick’s face and makes him look at him. “Dick.” Tim whispers, the sound of Blockbuster roaring in frustration as he tries to fit through the too-small doors cutting through Tim’s words. “I know you’re scared. I know he hurt you, but you _have_ to keep going. Can you walk or do we need to carry you?” Tim continues, his hands are warm on Dick’s face, Dick grounds himself in Tim’s voice and pushes Tim towards the stairs.

Jason keeps an arm around Dick as they rush up the stairs, occasionally letting go to shoot behind them, but for the most part he’s hauling Dick up to the roof. Dick doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, he can’t focus on the present, can’t make his feet work properly. Jason whispers things like “c’mon,” and “I’ve got you,” in his ears. Dick is sure his ankles will be covered in bruises from the impact of the stairs on his legs, Jason is hauling him up just as much as Dick is running himself, Jason’s grip on Dick’s ribs will likely leave a bruise of its own. 

They burst out the exit doors and onto the roof. Tim and Jason run in opposite directions, Jason hauling Dick with him. “Keep him behind you!” Tim shouts, extending his bo staff in one hand and readying several batarangs in his other. Jason obeys, shoving Dick behind him and pulling two guns from the holsters on his hips. Blockbuster roars as he comes onto the roof, taking the small room around the door with him. He clenches his fists, bits of debris falling down his shoulders and head. He looks between Tim and Jason, deciding on a target, then launches himself towards Tim. 

Tim and Jason fight hard and well. Tim dives between Blockbuster’s legs when the villain first rushes him, and Jason aims shots at his legs. Dick just feels like a burden, his mind is starting to clear now, but Tim and Jason won’t let him get involved. They’re practically playing a game of hot-potato with him, each grabbing him and hauling him behind their own bodies while the other attacks. Dick can see the confusion and frustration building in both his brothers, Blockbuster was always a physically difficult opponent to win against, but he must have improved in his years dormant, because Jason and Tim are hardly making a dent. 

Tim’s cry of “Hood!” snaps Dick out of his debates on how to handle this new, improved version of his nemesis. Tim isn’t body-blocking him anymore, instead he’s across the roof trying to bodily move Blockbuster. The massive villain somehow ignores all of Tim’s efforts, instead he grabs Red Robin by the arm, and sends him flying. 

Jason is on the ground at Blockbuster’s feet, crawling back towards the guard rails. Blockbuster raises his arms, ready to bring them down on Jason. Jason has no helmet, no extra protection, his guns have been kicked away, all that’s left is the arm lifted weakly over his head as a defense. Everything becomes clear then. Dick feels a wash of calm, then a rush of adrenaline. He stops thinking, pushes himself up and works on nothing but his instinct, he rushes Blockbuster from behind, escrima stick held like a blade in his hand, and launches himself onto the villain’s back. 

Blockbuster roars, abandoning his interest in Jason, and trying to reach over his shoulder and grab Dick. Dick hangs onto the collar of Blockbuster’s shirt with one hand, swinging his body this way and that to keep out of the way of his hands. Blockbuster growls in frustration and throws his weight forward in an attempt to throw Dick over his head, instead, it tosses Dick up onto his shoulders. Dick grabs onto the villain’s hair to balance himself, then brings his escrima stick down _hard_ on the side of Blockbusters head. It caves in. 

Dick cries out in horror, at first snapping to a thought of _oh God, what have I done!?_ But then the dent is growing back out, filling itself in, then the flesh shoots outwards, enveloping Dick’s hand and pulling him forward. Blockbuster whips his head back and forth, wrenching Dick from his back and sending him flying. He crashes into Jason, and they both go tumbling over the guard rail. Dick snags Jason’s jacket, turning in mid air and grabbing the edge of the roof. Jason’s weight pulls _hard_ when gravity takes effect, nearly yanking them both off the edge of the building, and definitely pulling Dick’s arm right out of its socket.

At this point, the pain doesn’t matter, Dick isn’t afraid, not anymore. Because this isn’t Blockbuster, this is Clayface. “Up, Hood!” Dick gasps, he ignores the strain as Jason crawls up his body and back onto the roof. Jason turns around the moment he’s up there, and pulls Dick himself up. “Red Robin!” Dick gasps, Tim doesn’t spare him a glance, too busy trying not to be crushed under Clayface’s arms or feet. “It’s Clayface! Get the antidote!” Dick shouts. 

“That’s why my shots weren’t working!” Jason cries, voice sharp with anger. Jason and Dick rush Clayface again, not so much trying to land hits as act as a distraction. Clayface’s facade as Blockbuster is fading now, his body keeps morphing and sliding, he knows they know. Tim digs in his utility belt, then tosses a small syringe Dick’s way, Dick catches it, and while Jason has Clayface turned to him, Dick lunges forward and plunges it into the villain’s back. 

Clayface cries out, scrabbling to reach for the needle or for Dick. Jason and Dick back up and away from him, watching his Blockbuster form devolve into a lump of clay before shrinking and shrinking into the human form of Basil Karlo. “Everyone alright?” Dick asks as Tim places handcuffs on Basil. Jason’s mask stretches as he raises an eyebrow, and he sets a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Are _you_ okay?” Jason asks. Dick looks away from him, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. 

“Dick, don’t worry about it. It happens to the best of us.” Tim says, surprising Dick with the use of his name. Tim raises his hands. “Don’t worry, he’s out. The Batcave has a containment cell for him, and I figure none of us want to deal with him right now.” Tim continues. Dick breathes out, slowly hanging his head. Adrenaline rush over, his shoulder is starting to hurt worse and worse. He shoved his arm back in to the best of his ability, but without help or something to brace against, he’s sure he’s done it wrong.

Jason seems to notice his pain and steps up behind him, fingers digging into Dick’s shoulder and back. Dick holds very still, and bites back the yelp when Jason gives his arm a hard shove without warning him. The pain in the moment is sharp, but the ache that follows is not nearly as bad as before. “Better?” Jason asks, stepping around him so Dick can see his face. Dick feels sick again, Jason is being too nice, too patient, Dick really must’ve been out of it. He wants to run away from them, Jason and Tim with their worried expressions, Jason with his hand on Dick’s shoulder, Tim smiling gently. 

“I, uh… I need a minute.” Dick tugs away from Jason and walks over to the guard rail. He leans against it, looking over Gotham. “Bat’s on his way with the plane.” Tim calls after him, voice unsure. Dick casts a glance over his shoulder, Tim and Jason are kneeling beside Basil, adding bindings to him to slow him down in case he wakes up. Their heads are close together, and they’re whispering to each other. Dick looks away, pressing a hand on his stomach to try and control the nausea. _I’m the oldest._ Dick thinks, shaking his head. _What an example I made tonight, my brothers having to protect me, being in danger because of me… Bruce would be so disappointed._


	14. Tim

Tim sighs when he sees a form outside of Dick’s door. The hall lights are off, so it takes his eyes a moment to adjust, but there’s no mistaking Damian’s little body standing in front of Dick’s room. “Damian.” Tim calls ahead of him. “He said he was going to bed. Let him sleep.” Tim scolds, earning a harsh glare and skinny crossed arms from Damian.

“But he’s not sleeping. I can hear him in there.” Damian hisses, keeping his own voice low. Tim tries for a solid minute to convince himself to walk past Damian, but eventually curiosity and concern for Dick wins out. He glares at Damian, then steps forward and leans an ear against Dick’s door. Damian was right, Tim can hear soft sounds through the door. Tim’s heart clenches, it sounds like Dick is _crying_. 

Damian gives him a _see_ look when Tim glances back at him, and Tim rolls his eyes in return. Carefully he opens Dick’s door, and immediately gets a startled “hello?” from his older brother. While great at helping _others_ express their emotions, Dick usually keeps his own less than happy feelings private, now he seems tense and confused at Tim and Damian’s intrusion on his alone-time.

“Hey, Dick. It’s Tim and Damian.” Tim says. Damian crosses the room immediately and clambers up onto the bed beside Dick. Dick is sitting up to look at them, blankets tangled tightly around his legs. Damian tugs the fabric away so he can slot himself under the comforter beside Dick, and wraps his arms tightly around Dick’s waist. “Hey, Damian” Dick sighs, curling an arm around Damian’s shoulders and carding his fingers through Damian’s dark hair. 

Tim walks around the bed and sits down next to Dick’s other side. He doesn’t crawl under the blankets, but does rest his arm against his older brother’s. Dick bumps his head against Tim’s, then rubs his face with the hand not occupied in Damian’s hair. 

“Are you okay?” Tim asks. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Dick smiles softly at him. “Nah, Timbo. I’m alright. Just having you two here is helping me.” He says. His still-sad expression has Tim wanting to push the issue, but he knows better. There’s no use in making Dick defensive. Instead Tim just nods and moves so that Dick can lay back down, Damian still wound around him. Once Dick settles on his side, cuddling Damian close like some sort of oversized teddy bear, Tim lays down on his back beside them. He rests the side of his head against Dick’s upper back and listens to the sound of Damian and Dick’s breathing, waiting for it to even out as they fall asleep.

Eventually Tim can tell that Dick has passed out. His breathing is slow, his arms relaxed around Damian. Damian wiggles free and nudges Dick’s shoulder so he falls onto his back, then Damian props himself up with an elbow on Dick’s chest and his chin held in his palm. “Who’s Blockbuster? I mean, who is Blockbuster to _him?”_ Damian asks, voice soft as to not wake Dick. Tim raises his eyebrows, turning to look at Damian.

“He hasn’t… Told you about it?” Tim asks. That surprises him, Dick _loves_ Damian. Dick doesn’t hide things from _Damian_. Damian plucks a bit of lint off of Dick’s shirt. “He told me to read the case files on Blockbuster. They hardly mention Nightwing, and once that woman, Tarantula, once she killed Blockbuster… She and Blockbuster don’t have a single file after that.” Damian explains. 

Tim sighs, fidgeting with the fabric of the comforter. “It’s a long story, Damian, and I don’t know the whole thing. Blockbuster was the major obstacle Dick faced when he moved to Bludhaven. He was struggling with Blockbuster for a _long_ time, making little to no progress with him for almost a year. It’s not like us with Joker, not tossing him in Arkham and seeing him break out, Dick didn’t get that far. After so long of doing that, there was a point when he had Blockbuster down, and Tarantula asked if he wanted her to kill him. Dick didn’t say no, but he didn’t say yes either.”

Damian cuts him off. “Father says that before Nightwing showed up, Bludhaven was just as if not _more_ corrupt than Gotham before Batman.” He says, _defending_ Dick. Damian doesn’t defend people, not often. 

“He’s right. The whole system was against Dick. The cops wouldn’t help, other villains never got in Blockbuster’s way… It was a bad situation all around. A situation that Tarantula sort of ended by killing Blockbuster.” Tim continues to explain.

“How did she do it?” Damian asks.

“Shot him.” 

“And what happened to her? Afterwards? Why haven’t I heard about her, or seen her?”

“Honestly Damian, I don’t know for sure… Damian, you… you know she assaulted him, right? She wasn’t _good,_ not at all.”

Damian rolls onto his back, away from Dick. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares up at the ceiling. Tim pushes himself up onto his elbow, leaning over Dick’s sleeping form to look at Damian. Damian’s face is tightened up, his jaw clenched. Tim’s stomach drops. He didn’t know. _Of course not,_ Tim realizes, _of course Dick would want to protect him from that._

“Are-are you upset? With him? For letting her-” Tim starts to ask, but Damian cuts him off with a sharp glare. The boy rolls out of Dick’s bed, staying silent until he’s out the door, then Tim can hear his foot-falls as he stomps down the hallway. _Dammit._ Tim thinks, scrambling out of the bed and rushing after Damian. 

“Damian.” Tim hisses, but his brother just storms into his room, turns to glare at Tim, and shuts his door firmly behind him. Tim stops in front of the door, letting his forehead fall heavily against it. This is why Damian and him can’t get along. They can’t get through a conversation without upsetting each other in one way or another. 

Tim groans, turning away from Damian’s room and heading for his own. He debates on calling Conner when he reaches his room. It’s nearly 3 AM, he knows Conner would answer if he called, but he’d rather not wake him. Tim closes his bedroom door behind him, stands in front of it tapping his foot and trying to talk himself out of calling Conner. After several minutes, and realizing he desperately wants to complain about Damian, he calls Stephanie instead. 

Stephanie doesn’t answer when he calls, but texts a minute or so after his call is sent to the answering machine.

Steph: Sorry I missed you, I just got home. You okay?

Tim:I’m fine. Sorry to bother you, just arguing with Damian.

Steph: What did the ass do now?

Tim: I upset him. It was related to patrol tonight.

Steph: I thought you were out with Jay and Dick? Tell me who I need to fight.

Tim: No one this time. Thanks though. It’s no one’s fault, we just had to deal with Clayface.

Steph: I’m coming over tomorrow and you’re talking to me, got it?

Tim:  Meet me at WE? Lunch? 

Steph: Manor afterwards, so I can see Cass and talk to Dami for you.

Tim: Thank you, Steph.

Steph: See you tomorrow, Timbers. Get some sleep, love you. :)

Tim pauses at the ‘love you’ text. He’s not sure why, but he always freezes a bit when Steph says that sort of thing. She says it to everyone, it’s not like he’s special. Tim tries a few replies to Steph, then ignores his other-worked brain and sends a “goodnight, love you too” her way and tosses his phone onto the armchair in the corner of his room. 

Tim collapses into his bed, running his hands back through his hair. He smells awful, should really shower after patrol, but now that his back has hit the mattress he’s not so sure he can get up. _Besides._ Tim justifies internally _If Alfred hears a shower this late… early? He’ll actually kill me._


	15. Bruce

Bruce really thought Damian and Tim were past physical violence against each other. Well, he at least thought they were past actively trying to hurt each other, Bruce could deal with brotherly-ribbing and wrestling, like the other boys engage in. However, when Damian enters the kitchen that morning and picks up Tim’s newly poured coffee and splashes it in his brother’s face, Bruce’s theories of growth are proven wrong.

 _“Master Damian!”_ Alfred cries, snatching the emptied mug from Damian’s hand. “What the _hell!?”_ Jason coughs, jumping up from his bar stool beside Tim’s. Jason glares at Damian, holding his shirt out to look at it, he has in fact caught some of the spray and has a splatter of coffee across his chest. That’s nothing in comparison to Tim, though. Tim was dressed to head to Wayne Enterprises, his white button-up shirt is drenched and stained brown, his suit jacket and pants are dripping. Even his face and dark hair are wet.

Bruce stands from his place at the kitchen table, glaring Damian down. Damian’s expression is strange. It’s not burning with frustration or beaming with a smug smirk, he’s not wearing any of his typical ‘Tim-Torture’ expressions, he looks… hurt. Damian looks hurt and upset, his little fists are clenched and shivering at his sides. Tim holds up his hands in a placating manner. “It’s fine. Alright? Everyone chill out.” He says. Damian crosses his arms, then turns around and heads out the side-kitchen door and into the yard.

Titus hesitates in the middle of the room, looking at Bruce, then out the door at Damian. “Go get him, Titus.” Bruce says, waving at the dog. Titus woofs and hurries out the dog door. Alfred wets a towel and hands it to Tim, then dampens a second rag and starts to wipe up the counter. “So, Timbers… You want to explain?” Jason asks, taking the rag from Alfred and wiping the coffee from the floor.

Tim rests his elbows on the counter and puts his face in his hands. “We were talking last night, and I think the subject upset him… Then I said something that he must have misunderstood, well, he didn’t give me a chance to finish talking… Either way, he’s right to be angry with me for what he _thinks_ I was saying.” Tim explains, being very vague. He’s defending Damian in a strange way, Tim doesn’t cover for Damian, not _ever._

Bruce doesn’t follow Damian, not right away. He knows better, following a freshly angered Damian will just end in a fight. He debates on letting Dick know about what happened, but Dick is at work, he went despite everyone’s protests, and Bruce doesn’t want to add to his stress. Alfred takes Tim upstairs to help him fix his clothes, and Bruce helps Jason with the dishes. No one talks. The kitchen is suddenly too quiet, even for Bruce. Silence after an outburst doesn’t feel quite right.

Cass, Roy, and Lian break the tension by walking into the kitchen, Lian saying hello in her cheerful child-voice. Cass is delighted by her, setting Roy in a stool beside Jason, and following the little girl around the kitchen. It has taken Lian a mere evening to worm her way into their family. Roy’s daughter has taken to addressing Jason’s family as her own, Cass is an Auntie, Tim and Duke are now Uncles like Dick. Lian stopped and stared at Damian last night, trying to decide what to call him, and then giving up. Bruce figures Damian is just too young in her eyes to be called “Uncle Damian.” Bruce himself is now “Grandpa Bruce” which warms his heart every time he hears it.

Lian walks over and wraps her arms around Bruce’s leg, her head only reaches about halfway up his thigh. “Goodmorning, Lian.” Bruce says, drying his hands and then patting her head. He glances over at Jason and Roy. Jason looks unsure, but Roy is smiling fondly. Well, Bruce being Lian’s grandpa has at least _one_ of her parent’s approval. 

A door slams, making Lian jump and bury her face in Bruce’s leg. Jason’s eyebrows raise, and he moves to get up, but then Alfred is walking into the kitchen with Tim at his side. “Master Richard just arrived. He went straight to his room.” Alfred says, breaking the tense quiet that followed the slamming door. “He neglected to greet me or Master Timothy. Has he spoken to any of you today?” Alfred continues, tapping his foot when he’s not immediately given the room's attention. 

“He’s probably shaken over last night’s encounter with Clayface.” Bruce suggests.

“The way I heard it, Clayface was imitating Blockbuster. I’m _sure_ Master Richard would be shaken by that.” Alfred fires back, his voice is lifting, growing louder and higher. 

Roy’s eyebrows shoot up, he looks at Jason, who offers him a guilty glance in response. 

“Alfred, please, he’s an adult. He’s surrounded by people to talk to, if he’d like to talk he will.” Bruce says, getting frustrated with Alfred’s attempts to dictate his handling of Dick’s situation. 

“Whoa, whoa, _whoa.”_ Roy cuts in, voice rising above Alfred’s and Bruce’s. “This happened _last night,_ and none of you thought to talk to me? Thought to call Wally? C’mon, guys.” Roy shakes his head, he seems genuinely frustrated. It’s rubbing Bruce the wrong way, of _course_ he wondered if Dick would talk to one of his friends, but he’s in the Manor, surrounded by his family, by people to talk to. He has a phone, he could call Wally. 

Roy seems to sense Bruce’s thought process and shakes his head vigorously. “Dammit it Bruce. He’s pushed this down for _five years,_ you really think he’d just bring it up now?” Roy growls. He has a temper, Bruce had forgotten that with how laid-back Roy’s been for the past several days. “We are his family, Roy. We can help him.” Bruce responds. He can feel Alfred’s skeptical look hot on his back, and Jason’s eyebrows are lifted as well. His son is unsurprisingly making no attempts to defend him or restrain Roy. 

“Well we’re the _Titans!”_ Roy shouts, he pushes himself up from the stool, managing to stand on his injured leg without wincing. “Remember who he stayed with after it happened? After Blockbuster _died?_ It wasn’t you. It was Barry, Iris, and Wally. I’m calling _them.”_ Roy hisses, grabbing his crutches from where they are leaning on the counter and pulling them up under his arms. 

Roy hobbles off, storming to the best of his ability on crutches. Bruce leans his face in his hands, anger brewing. Jason lets out a low whistle, sinking forward to rest his elbows on the counter. They wait for several minutes, hear Roy’s voice in the hallway, then the tell-tale harsh _whoosh_ of a speedster coming to a stop. Roy and Wally’s voices mingle in the hallway, then another _whoosh_ and sharp creaking from the stairs announce them going up to see Dick. 

“Record time for Mr. West, I do believe.” Alfred comments, checking his watch. Lian looks perplexed by the whole exchange, she had detached herself from Bruce and gone to Jason’s side the moment Bruce raised his voice, now she’s sitting in Jason’s lap. “Where’s Titus?” Lian asks, breaking the reformed tension once again. She looks around, rotating this way and that in Jason’s lap while searching for the dog. “Probably with the Demon Brat.” Jason comments, holding her still. Lian nods, accepting this answer, and Bruce wonders if he should scold Jason for teaching Lian that ‘Demon Brat’ is an acceptable name for Damian. He decides he has nowhere near enough emotional-stamina to handle _that_ confrontation. 

“Okay, then.” Lian says. “Where is Damian?”

“I believe Master Damian is in the lower level.” Alfred tells her, pointedly not calling the cave what it is. “Perhaps Master Bruce can fetch him for you?” Alfred gives him a pointed look, planting his gloved hands on his hips. Tim, standing next to Alfred, has been redressed, albeit more casually. Bruce sighs and walks towards the door. “Are you still going in today?” Bruce asks, passing Tim. His son shrugs, looking up from his phone. “Alfred says a day can reflect its beginning, so I think I’m staying here.” Tim says.

Alfred was right, Damian is in the Batcave. He’s perched in the massive chair in front of the Bat-Computer. Damian is dwarfed by the chair, he’s sitting criss-cross in the seat while still having space between his knees and the chair-arms. “Who told you I was down here? Pennyworth?” Damian calls, not looking away from the screen. Bruce shoves his hands in his pockets, finishing his descent down the stairs and crossing the platform to walk to Damian’s side. He casts a glance at Clayface, in his containment cell on a lower level. It’s sound resistant, and the glass one-sided, but Damian is still wearing a domino mask. 

“What are you working on?” Bruce asks, ignoring Damian’s previous question. Damian had switched tabs on the computer before Bruce reached his side, now it shows Tim’s records of the Joker’s appearances. “I’m checking Drake’s notes.” Damian responds, as if his attempt to hide his activity wasn’t obvious. Bruce frowns down at him, then leans over his son and shifts the mouse to click to Damian’s other tab. Damian doesn’t object, just looks away.

Blockbuster’s case file pops up. The notes are all scanned in, not typed, done in Dick’s slanted, messy handwriting. Dick started typing his files a few years back, Bruce finds he misses the handwritten notes. Sometimes Dick would even squish a doodle or little note for Bruce or Alfred into the corner. There are only three of these scanned pages, and the third page isn’t even halfway full. It’s about as strict and void of personality as possible, the only thing proving they are Dick’s notes and not someone else’s is the handwriting. 

“He’s got Tarantula’s file up as well.” Selina says, approaching them. Bruce was vaguely aware she was in the cave, she wasn’t in the kitchen or their room, so the cave was the next best guess. He’s surprised that Damian is so comfortable working with her around, especially if he’s being this sensitive about it. Selina leans over Damian’s other shoulder and pulls up that file. Tarantula’s file is even shorter than Blockbuster’s, only two pages. Bruce is sure Dick or someone else has more somewhere, but these final summaries are so brief. So official. So unlike Dick. 

Selina sets a hand on Damian’s shoulder, and he doesn’t flinch away, just looks at her. Bruce stays quiet, clearly this is more her strength than his, and Damian is actually being receptive to her for once. “Damian, I know you’ve read these before, why do it again?” Selina asks. Damian shrugs, though he keeps the motion small enough that he doesn’t dislodge her grip. “He excluded a lot in his notes.” Damian comments, scrolling up and down through the brief pages. “Drake told me more than these did.”

Damian frowns, looks down. His tiny frame in the massive chair and pouty expression a stark reminder that he _is_ only a child, just 13. “Damian, you understand he hid some things from you to protect you, right?” Bruce tries. Damian whips his head around, standing sharply and glaring at Bruce. “I don’t _need_ his protection!” Damian snaps.

Selina gives Bruce an exasperated head shake and follows Damian when the boy storms off the edge of the platform. “I think what your bone-headed father is trying to say is that Dick really, _really,_ loves you.” Selina says, voice soft but firm. “He knows how capable you are, we all do, but he wants to guard you from what he’s afraid of because he cares.” 

Damian doesn’t look back at them, but his body language softens a little. He un-clenches his fists and lets his shoulders drop. After a long minute, he turns on his heel and walks to the stairs without letting either of them quite see his face. “I’m taking Titus for a walk.” Damian tosses over his shoulder, then he whistles for the dog and leaves Selina and Bruce in the dark of the cave. 

Selina sits down in the chair. She clicks back to Blockbuster’s tab and adds a page, then starts typing a note on Clayface imitating him. Bruce pulls his eyes from where Damian disappeared up the stairs to her face, she is unsurprisingly smiling quite smugly. “Thank you. That was quite-” Bruce starts, but she cuts him off. “Eloquent? Mature? Keep the compliments coming, Bat.” Selina teases. Bruce shakes his head, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “I was going to say: quite a lot better than I could have done.” He responds, leaning back against the monitor.

Selina gasps, hand over her heart like he’s leveled some grave insult against her. “Well _that_ is hardly a compliment.” She pokes at his chest, still smiling. Bruce relaxes at her side, there is no one like her, no one with the ability to unravel him like she can. Selina seems to notice the fondness in his smile, because she gives him one more poke and equally warm grin before returning to her work. 

Bruce spends the rest of the morning in the cave with Selina. First they update Blockbuster’s records with new information and what else Bruce can remember that Dick had excluded. After Selina grows bored of records they interrogate Clayface, learning unsurprisingly that the Joker is behind him knowing whose form to imitate. Bruce can tell Selina is angry with this new information, that Clayface behaving as Blockbuster really was to upset Nightwing specifically, but Selina keeps her cool and helps Bruce keep his. They learn, thankfully, that Clayface didn’t actually know when and where he’d encounter Nightwing, and that the hospital was really just a lucky guess. 

Talking to Clayface leaves Bruce both relieved and angrier than before. For one, Clayface is just plain difficult, and due to the mental separations between an angered Clayface and Basil Karlo, his human form wouldn’t remember enough about the night in question for Bruce to talk to Basil instead. Secondly, Clayface being just some small part in a plan makes Bruce nervous. Joker isn’t behaving how he usually does, he doesn’t usually make quite this many ‘small’ calculated jabs, usually Joker is all in on one big-bang scheme of some kind. On one hand, the fall out of these events has so far been easier to handle, Roy is recovering, Freeze and Cold were locked up quickly and easily, etc, but on the other hand Bruce can’t quite figure out what Joker’s goal is. 

Selina seems to be having the same realization, she’s leaning over the back of the chair while Bruce sits in it, tapping her nails against the leather. “He’s targeting us, each of us individually… Bruce, I don’t think this is done.” Selina whispers as Bruce types out the foes they’ve faced since Joker resurfaced.

Joker Goons……… Red Hood and Arsenal

Penguin Goons……… Signal (Orphan?)

Scarecrow……… Unknown. (Robin?)

Freeze and Cold……… Unknown

Clayface/Blockbuster……… Nightwing

“I don’t like the number of unknowns on there, Bat.” Selina says, crossing her arms. Bruce shakes his head. “I don’t either. He won’t stop trying until he gets it ‘right.”’ 

“Well, chances are Scarecrow was meant for whoever he caught. He could hurt any of us.” Tim calls, walking up to them. Stephanie is at his side, they are both sipping coffee from to-go mugs. Stephanie drapes herself over the back of the chair and flicks the top of Bruce’s head. “Actually, I bet Scarecrow was for you, Selina.” Stephanie comments, loudly slurping her coffee. Selina raises her eyebrows, giving Stephanie her spot behind Bruce and looking at the girl in curiosity.

Tim starts nodding, his eyes flickering across the monitor as he puts the pieces together. “That makes sense, actually. If you don’t mind me analyzing you.” Tim ignores Selina's _‘um, I kinda do’_ and keeps talking. “Right now your big fears would be related to us, but since Joker’s messing with each of us individually, Scarecrow was the best bet for you. By using Scarecrow he could mess with your psyche without going out of order and affecting another one of us.” Tim says it so matter-of-factly, still drinking his coffee and motioning with his hands like they're talking about something as serious as the weather… and not a homicidal clown.

Selina wrinkles her nose. “Gross. Whatever. Put me on there for Scarecrow.” Bruce does so, though he doesn’t like it much either. Tim looks over the rest of their list, telling Bruce to erase Orphan next to the Penguin Goons and make it just Signal. “I’m sure Joker knows Shiva and Cain well enough to plan something related to them for Orphan. He’s probably just trying to hit Duke and be over with it.” Tim comments, he earns a smack from Stephanie for his crassness, but Bruce knows he’s right. 

Tim and Stephanie eventually head back up to the Manor, leaving Bruce to think. They have a plan now, maybe a few predictions, Joker is proving he knows their weaknesses, but so do they, they may know what’s coming before it happens. Bruce’s mind wanders to Dick, thinking of how Dick ignored them all when he came home from patrol last night, just made excuses, went upstairs still in his suit and closed the door on them. Bruce puts his face in his hands. Roy was right. Bruce should’ve forced his way into that room right away, or called one of Dick’s friends to do the same. 

Selina touches his shoulder, kneeling beside the chair and leaning forward to peek under his arms. “Bat. It’s okay. He’ll be okay, and we’ll make sure to be out ahead of this now, alright?” She says, stroking her fingers over his arm. He nods, but now his mind is on Jason. Bruce has seen Jason go through perhaps every emotion possible, but he’s not sure he’s ever seen Jason as scared as he was when he found Roy missing. While his face had been shrouded in anger, the fear and anguish bubbling below was obvious, made even clearer by how Jason had immediately called him. Called _Bruce_ , right away, because he was scared enough to need him. 

Selina takes Bruce’s face in her hands. Her voice is much firmer this time. “Bat. Stop it. They are here, they are safe. You did it, you hear me? You found Roy, you got him back to Jason. You taught Dick’s brothers well enough to protect him. Scarecrow didn’t even _get_ to me, Damian’s got your mind, he knew what to do.” Selina tells him, fingers squeezing on his jaw to force him to look at her. Bruce nods, slow and tentative. He’s listening, but he’s not sure he’s believing.


	16. Selina

Selina’s life plan never really involved being a mom. Sure, she figured she might have kids at some point, but those picket-fenced ideas faded when she became Catwoman. Now, however, she can’t see Bruce’s flock of children as anything other than hers. Sure, some of them are less excited about it than others, Damian and Duke for example, aren’t totally into Selina being their mom, each for their own reasons. The others seem to be on board. Dick easily latched onto her as a mother-figure despite being the oldest of them, and Tim and Cass also seem to like her a lot.

Selina recognizes that she fills some of the parenting-gaps that Bruce can’t. He stumbles over emotional situations, refuses to admit many of his faults, and doesn’t like to compromise. It’s no surprise to her then, when she ends up having a parent-talk with Barry Allen instead of Bruce.

The speedster showed up late-afternoon, waiting on Wally, who had apparently decided Dick would be spending the night with them. It’s a bit odd, Wally bringing Dick to his aunt and uncle’s house, but Selina does remember there is quite the story to why Wally still lives with them at 26. It involves a troubled childhood, the speedforce, and forgotten memories. Makes her head hurt just  _ trying  _ to think about it. 

Bruce greeted Barry when he first walked into the sitting room, where Selina, Bruce, Cass, and Lian were gathered around the TV. They’d all been half-watching a movie with Lian, but the little girl had long since fallen asleep in Cass’s lap. Barry grinned, waved awkwardly, and started to talk about the whole Dick and Wally situation. Bruce sighed, folded his paper, said “Goodbye, Barry,” and walked out. Selina smiled, and asked Barry if she could get him something to drink.

Selina doesn’t mind Barry Allen, in fact, she sort of likes him. Perhaps a little too much of a goody-two-shoes for her, but she can deal with it. She’s impressed at how many of Bruce’s hero friends that she  _ has  _ liked. Sure, there are a few that she’s not a fan of, Diana is too high and mighty, J’onn is too serious, but plenty of them are just fine. She even likes Clark Kent, Superman,  _ the  _ Big Blue Boy Scout.

The thing that really gets Selina about Barry, and what makes her like him, is how much he  _ cares.  _ He clearly feels a little awkward taking Dick out from under Bruce’s nose, but he says Wally’s giving him no other choice, and Barry talks about Dick with  _ such fondness  _ in his voice, Selina has no doubt a night with the Allen-West’s will be good for Dick. A good break from the harsh reality of Gotham, they all need that sometimes.

Selina forces Bruce to come downstairs to at least wave goodbye to Dick when he leaves. She can tell Dick is embarrassed, all head-down, cheeks flushed. Wally and Barry talk at hyperspeed over each other, cracking jokes so fast it’s near impossible to understand. Dick seems to be able to understand speed-speech though, and relaxes a little when he sees Barry.  _ Yes,  _ Selina thinks, watching Bruce as Barry tugs Dick into a hug,  _ that is definitely jealousy in his face. Dammit, just hug your kids, Bat.  _

“We’ll take the Zeta Tubes!” Barry calls up to where Bruce and Selina stand on the landing of the grand staircase. “I promise no hauling him across the midwest.” Barry then ruffles Dick’s hair, and Dick walks out of the Manor, standing a little taller between the two speedsters. He’s got no bags packed, no specific plans, just two people who love him at his sides. 

Selina jabs Bruce in the arm with a long nail. “You know, if you tried to hug him, he’d let you. Hell, he’d like it.” She says. Bruce just gives her a dark look, any traces of the good mood he had going have seemingly left with Dick. She doesn’t try to follow him when he heads back down to the cave, in fact, Selina doesn’t see him until they gather in the cave to discuss patrol that night.

The patrol groups are pretty typical. Jason and Tim, Cass and Stephanie, Duke and Damian, and Selina and Bruce. They’re given their various chunks of Gotham, and the kids head out. Like usual, Selina watches their antics: Duke displaying a Dick Grayson-level of patience with Damian, Jason waiting impatiently while Tim does something with his helmet, the girls driving away while Stephanie sings her scratchy rendition of  _ Poker Face.  _ It’s weird seeing all of them in the cave without Dick fluttering between them, checking masks, grappling hooks, giving hugs if he can. 

Selina turns back to the computer and finds Bruce has been watching her. Usually if he catches her with her eye on the kids, he’ll give her a fond smile, but now he just looks grave. “Bat?” She asks, and receives no response, just him passing her and going to the Batmobile. Selina sighs, but doesn’t try again, just joins him in the car and waits for him to open up. He doesn’t, instead, he just hands her a note.

Selina pulls her goggles up to sit on top of her head, and takes the slip of parchment from him. That  _ is  _ what it is, not notebook paper, cardstock, whatever. Selina unrolls the tiny scroll and reads the note inside. Most of it is unimportant, instructions to meet at an address in Gotham that Selina is sure Bruce is headed towards, but it’s who the note is addressed to that stands out. It says: “To Beloved.” Selina clenches her jaw and tosses the note to the side. It’s from  _ Talia Al Ghul.  _

“And why are we answering this?” Selina hisses. She doesn’t mind defending her territory, she had a goddamn sword fight with Talia to prove Bruce was hers, but it seems like there are more important things going on right now than having dinner with Bruce’s ex. Bruce reaches out, sets a hand on her knee, the spiteful part of her says to tug away, but she doesn’t. “Joker has been targeting each of us in… the most sensitive areas he can think of. I’m concerned about what Talia being here could mean for me, what it might mean for Damian.” Bruce explains.

Selina softens at that, she feels a tiny flash of guilt. Her mind went right to herself, but now she realizes Damian should be their top concern. Selina picks Bruce’s hand up from her knee and lifts it to her lips to kiss his knuckles. She doubts he can feel it through the gloves, but the sentiment is there. “Where did you send him tonight?” Selina asks. Bruce takes his hand back to rest it on the steering wheel. “Uptown, Jason and Tim are between him and Talia.” Bruce responds.

“Do they know? Did you make anyone else aware?” Selina questions, though she’s pretty sure she knows the answer. Bruce shifts his jaw,  _ okay, so that’s a no.  _ Selina sighs at him, then messes with the cars comm-system until she gets a line open to Jason and Tim. Jason answers with a “Y’ello?” after a second or two. “Hey Hood, this is Catwoman, is Red Robin listening?” She asks, there is a pause, and then Jason says yes.

“Alright kids, don’t shoot the messenger, and be mad at your dad later, Talia is in town.” Selina tells them. There is a pause, the click of Tim muting himself, and then his voice in the background of Jason’s call. Selina can’t tell what Tim is saying, but whatever it is seemingly helps Jason, because his voice is perfectly neutral the next time he speaks. “Where is she? Where’s the Demon-Brat?” Jason asks. 

Selina gives Bruce an  _ I told you so  _ look when Jason asks about his brother, then refocuses on the call. “Bat and I are on our way to her, you and Red Robin are between Robin and us. Keep an eye on him and Signal, okay? Maybe tag along on their patrol, don’t let them come too close and make sure nothing happens to them.” Selina instructs him. Jason clicks out without any other dialogue, and Tim gives her a reassuring “Don’t worry, we’ll watch him.” before exiting the call himself.

“Well would you look at that.” Selina says, feeling rather proud of herself. “How  _ mature  _ and  _ responsible  _ were they?” She’s sure the glance Bruce gives her is filled with mock-hatred, but his eyes are hidden under the cowl. Only minutes after warning the boys, they pull up to a restaurant. It’s closed, given the late hour, but there is one person sitting at a table for two on the patio.

Bruce exits the Batmobile, Selina right on his heels. The figure stands, hits a switch somewhere on the nearby restaurant wall, and the Christmas lights on the patio fence light up. It’s still dim, but now Selina can see Talia somewhat clearly. She is tall, beautiful, with long brown hair and deeply tanned skin. Her eyes are a bright hazel, Selina can see bits and pieces of Damian in her. Damian has her skin tone, her full lips, as he’s aged Damian’s eyes have gone from blue to green to be more like Talia’s. 

Talia approaches them, eyes on Bruce, when she notices Selina she darkens. “I see you brought your woman.” Talia comments, keeping her glare fixated on Selina as she wraps her arms around Bruce’s neck. Selina glowers right back, waiting for the one-sided embrace to end before correcting her. “I’m the wife, actually.” Selina says. 

“What are you doing here, Talia?” Bruce cuts her off before Talia can come up with a returning jab. The Al Ghul herris steps back from him and returns to her seat. It takes him a minute, but then Bruce follows and sits in the other chair. Selina hates this, and she can tell Bruce does too, but the only way to get information from Talia is to play the game her way at least a little bit. Selina walks onto the patio and leans against the fence about a foot away from their table. Close enough to observe and make commentary, but leaving Talia in her imaginary bubble with Bruce. 

“Where is Damian?” Talia asks after a long moment. 

“Patrolling. He’s safe.” Bruce responds.

“I’d like him to be with me.” Talia says, Bruce shakes his head.

“That’s not happening.” Selina interrupts. “He’s safe with us. He’s not alone right now, and he’d check in if anything went wrong.” That last bit is sort of a lie, but at least  _ someone  _ would check in if they needed help.

“The Joker offered my father an opportunity related to our son.” Talia says, ignoring Selina and focusing on Bruce. “He promised a distraction, a plan to bring Damian back to our side.” 

“Why didn’t you take the offer?” Bruce asks.

Talia looks away. There it is, a tell of hers. She’s showing the affection and consideration for Damian that she doesn’t want anyone to recognize. “An heir is most effective if he wants what he’s been offered.” Talia admits.

Bruce leans across the table, takes one of her hands in his. Selina bristles. “Talia. I need you to tell me, did your father feel the same way about the offer? Are you here for yourself or for him?” Bruce asks, voice low and a bit forceful. Selina tenses herself, Talia could be nothing but a distraction, this could be a trap. 

The silence drags on too long, but then finally,  _ finally,  _ Talia shakes her head. “I’m here for Damian, beloved.” She says. “Rest easy now, your foe should think this part of his plan has gone well.” Bruce squeezes her hands, and murmurs a thank you. Selina doesn’t want to trust Talia at her word, it seems like a terrible choice, but she supposes that Bruce knows the woman deeply. Hopefully he’d see something in her if Talia was lying.

Selina and Bruce return to the Batmobile, leaving Talia at her post on the patio. “You believe her?” Selina asks once they start driving. Bruce casts her a glance. “I do, but call Hood for me anyway, please?” He reaches out and tucks a stray stand of hair back into her mask. Selina smiles at him, but she doesn’t relax fully until later that night when Damian returns to the cave unscathed.


	17. Jason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is sort of a story beat, but mostly self-indulgent fluff... So uh, yeah. Enjoy?

“Hey Jay, you want to come with me to Central?” Tim asks, walking into the living room. Jason twists in his seat to look over the back of the couch at his brother. The motion earns an annoyed grunt from Roy, who is using his shoulder as a pillow. Lian is fast asleep in the archer’s lap, leaning back against his chest. Jason can’t help but think they’ve gotten more comfortable in the Manor after several days than he has in years.

Tim walks around the couch so Jason doesn’t have to crane his neck, and a smile immediately grows on his face at the site of Jason, Roy, and Lian. “Why are we going to Central?” Jason asks, trying to change the subject off of him being a softie with his boyfriend and daughter. No such luck with Tim though, who somehow pulls out his phone and snaps a picture in a matter of seconds. Tim tucks the phone into his pocket with a wink. “Well, I left some stuff with Bart last week, and Dick’s at the Allen’s anyway, so I figure two birds with one stone, right?” Tim explains.

Jason shrugs. He doesn’t particularly want to see the Flash-family or travel to Central, but time with Tim and Dick does sound oddly… Nice. Jason removes himself from the couch cuddle-pile carefully. Roy is awake enough to latch onto him, but also keep Lian from falling. Jason shoves a pillow into Roy’s side to replace his own body, and gives Roy a quick kiss, one that Roy returns despite being only half awake. “I’m going with Timbers to get Dick, alright? I’ll see you later.” Jason tells him. 

Jason can feel Tim’s eyes on him the whole time, but he can handle that. Tim’s the least of his worries when it comes to who sees him engage in PDA. After a week or so of patrolling and spending days together, Jason has grown very comfortable around Tim. His little brother is pretty laid-back, and when Jason gets uncomfortable talking about Roy, Tim either changes the subject completely or brings up his own boyfriend: Conner Kent, to make Jason feel less awkward. 

“Oh, and Damian is coming.” Tim tacks on, speaking so fast that Jason hardly understands him. Jason pauses halfway through putting on one of his boots. “The Demon-Brat? _Why_ Tim?” Jason responds, dramatizing it with a low groan when Damian approaches them. Damian is already dressed, looking like the Wayne-heir he’s supposed to be. His hair is spiked up, he’s wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt tucked into them, he carries a red cardigan in one hand. “I’d like to see Grayson, Todd. Wouldn’t you?” Damian snaps, breezing past his brothers and out onto the steps.

Jason mouths something nondescript in response, and Tim snickers. They both step outside, waving goodbye to Alfred. Wayne Manor is situated on a hill, surrounded by one of the rare green areas in Gotham, and now a cool spring breeze carries over the trees and mansion. Jason breathes it in, feeling his lungs fill with clean air. Tim isn’t basking in it, instead blocking the sun from his eyes with one of his too-long sleeves. Unlike Jason and Damian, Tim only sort-of put effort into his outfit. His jeans are nice, light-washed and they actually _fit_ , but his Wayne Enterprises sweatshirt is another story. It’s at least two sizes too big and hangs loosely off of Tim’s small frame, Jason wonders if it even belongs to Tim. It’s still too small to be Bruce’s, but he supposes it could be Dick’s.

“We’re taking the city Zeta-Tube?” Jason asks. Honestly he’s not sure why they aren’t taking the cave one, but he’s too busy enjoying the fresh air to be confused about it. Tim nods, hurrying down the stairs. “Drake is banned from leisure uses of that Zeta-Tube, too many visits to Kansas.” Damian comments, grinning mischievously at Tim. His brother whirls at him, wagging a warning finger at Damian. “You know just as well as I do that you were a part of that!” Tim scolds. Jason groans because now he’s on ‘ _keep Damian and Tim from killing each other duty.’_ Lovely. 

They manage to get to the Zeta-Tube without too much fuss. Damian is _not_ happy about sharing Jason’s motorcycle, but Jason ignores his complaints, besides, Damian in Jason’s too-big for him helmet? Sort of precious. Tim takes his own car, and follows Jason’s lead to the Zeta-Tube. Damian cries things about speeding and lane-cutting as they drive, and if he gets too annoying Jason just releases his hold a little so that the boy feels the potential of falling off the motorcycle and shuts his mouth. 

Damian springs out of Jason’s arms the moment they stop. He mutters something about _never again_ as Tim walks up to them. He parked his car elsewhere, turning a fancy car down an alley would’ve been too suspicious – and robbery bait – otherwise. “You drive like a lunatic.” Tim snickers. Jason barks a laugh, slapping a hand on Tim’s back. “Oh, c’mon now! I’m alive, Dami’s alive, we’re both here, aren’t we?” He retorts, earning a head shake from Tim.

Damian presses his hand against a brick on one of the buildings the alley is situated between. It takes a moment, but then the building’s back door starts to glow around its edges, and an automated voice says: “recognized, Robin” and a series of numbers. Damian opens the back door, revealing the interior of the Zeta-Tube, which is pale blue and glowing. They all pack in, because while it _can_ transport more than one person, it’s not all that accommodating space-wise. Jason groans, sort of regretting coming with, Damian is growling something about “Drake smelling up the place” and Tim’s elbow is in Jason’s stomach. Thankfully the trip to Central, once Damian finally tells the machine their destination, is very quick. 

They have to take the city-train the rest of the way to the Allen-West house. Jason doesn’t mind it, he likes looking at the bright city passing by the windows, Central is a nice change of pace, and he’s used to public transportation anyway. Damian and Tim, however, behave like the rich kids they are and look uncomfortable the whole time. Damian is far worse than Tim, he refuses to sit down and instead covers his hand with his sleeve to hang onto one of the ceiling-handles. Tim sits, but panics a little when he notices a mystery stain on his seat. Jason rolls his eyes, moves to the other side of the train's interior, and pretends he doesn’t know either of them. 

Tim, despite his flightiness, has clearly taken this train before, and he knows what stop to get off at without looking at the map. Jason and Damian follow him through a few blocks of houses of various sizes. It’s a decently nice neighborhood, nobody's house is falling apart, but none of these homes are mansions either. The house belonging to the Allen-Wests is stupidly obvious for a few reasons. Past the mailbox with the family name painted in bright red letters, their fence is stupidly high so the yard can be speedster-safe, the garage door looks like it’s been opened once in the last year, and there are a few suspicious streaks of dead grass across the front lawn. 

Damian gives it all a dark, judgmental look, and Tim grins. Jason’s never been here before, and he feels a little odd following his brothers, who both clearly _have_ been here. Tim rings the doorbell, but then lets himself into the unlocked house. They are greeted by a roar of “Are you goddamn _kidding me!?”_ from inside. 

At first Jason’s instincts scream to turn tail and run, but once he gets past the initial startle and sees how Tim’s smile doesn’t drop, he calms down. Impressively, the house doesn’t look like a war zone. Its got a very open layout, Jason can see the kitchen, dining room, and living room the moment he steps in. That is also how he sees the source of the yelling: Hal Jordan. 

_Huh._ Jason thinks. Bruce had mentioned Hal was home from a Green Lantern expedition, but he’d only said that _yesterday_ , and yet, here he is, in the Allen-West house, watching football. A woman sits on the couch with Hal, she’s pretty, probably in her mid thirties, and is crowing something at Hal. It takes Jason a minute, but he gathers that her team scored on Hal’s.

“Iris? Hal? Hi!” Tim calls. They both look up, and the woman, Iris, smiles warmly. She leaves her spot on the couch and walks over to them. She pats Damian’s head, somehow avoiding losing a hand, ruffles Tim’s hair, and holds a hand out to Jason. He shakes it, her grip is surprisingly strong. “You must be Jason.” She says. “Sorry I didn’t let you in, too busy watching Central kick Coast City’s ass!” She raises her voice at the end of her sentence, and Hal sticks his tongue out at her.

“Barry and Wally are both at work, but Dick and Bart should be upstairs.” Iris tells them, before returning to the couch to bully Hal some more. Jason isn’t sure what he expected from the Allen-West household, but it wasn’t this. To be fair, Jason’s never seen another hero-household past his own and Roy’s and neither of those are particularly warm and cheerful. Sure, he’s heard the Kent’s home is great, and he’s perfectly aware that _some_ families are functional, but this… Well it’s a sense of _home,_ of warmth that sucks Jason right in, makes him want to smile for no reason other than the feel of the place. Jason no longer questions Dick and Tim spending so much time here, he would too, if he had a speedster friend. Or, apparently, a Green Lantern.

Tim leads Jason and Damian upstairs. He spares a glance to one of the bedrooms they pass, but it must be empty, because Tim ignores it. Noise attracts them to a different door, and when Tim opens it, Jason finds Bart Allen and his older brother on the floor. Dick and Bart are both still in their pajamas, despite it being almost noon, and are leaning against the base of the bed and playing something on the tv situated a few feet away. 

Bart pauses the game when they come in, and springs to his feet in a burst of speed. He zooms over to Tim and pulls him into a split-second hug that jerks Tim forwards and backwards so fast that Jason is sure he should have whiplash from it. “Bart. Spine.” Tim manages, gripping his friend’s arms to stay standing. Bart immediately looks guilty. “Sorry man! Just excited to see you!” Bart pulls away from Tim’s grip probably too soon for poor Tim’s sake and turns to Jason.

Some speedsters are great at hiding their speedster-ness, but Bart? Not so much. He shoots rapid-fire sentences at Jason, grabbing Jason's hand from his side and shaking it as he does so. “Have we met? I’m not sure– Nah, don’t think so. Hey then! I’m Bart! You’re dark and moody, and Tim’s brother, so you’re Jason aren’t ya?” Bart babbles. Jason hardly picks anything out of that monologue before Bart is speeding away to check on the football game downstairs. One: He actually _has_ met Bart, but it was brief, so Jason’s not too upset he forgot (plus he had the kid at gunpoint, it’s probably _best_ he forgot), and Two: Tim apparently talks about Jason to his friends, because Bart identified him without trouble and even said how. 

Tim is too busy approaching Dick for Jason to ask him any questions. Dick grins up at Tim, he’s sitting cross legged on the ground, in just his sweatpants. His hair is a mess, he’s not dressed, but he looks happy and better-rested than Jason’s seen in awhile. “He’s just as bad as Wally.” Dick says to Tim, referencing the controller in his hands. Tim laughs and sits beside him, bumping their shoulders together. “How many times have you won?” Tim asks.

Dick forgoes answering him to instead gasp “Damian?” The 5th Robin has been hiding in the hall this whole time, listening in and analyzing the photos lining the walls. Now he slips past Jason and walks over to Dick, submitting to the hug Dick gives him. Dick looks past Damian’s waist, which is at his head-height since Damian is still standing, and smiles brightly at Jason. Jason shakes his head, but walks over and joins the brother-gathering by ruffling Dick’s hair.

\---------------

It takes them forever to leave the West-Allen house. First Bart demands a round of video games against all four of the bat brothers, and loses every one of them, then Hal says they have to stay to see Coast City turn the game around in the second half. Like Bart, Hal is disappointed, and Central City’s football team is victorious. Iris immediately calls Barry to tell him. 

“C’mon.” Dick says, coming down the stairs to join his brothers. “We can go downtown and get lunch.” Iris gives Dick a hug, and Hal offers him an oddly fond smile, then the brothers are finally able to leave. Dick directs them back onto the city-train and they take it downtown. Like Jason, Dick seems perfectly comfortable on the train. It’s an odd reminder for Jason that his family actually comes from a variety of places, Tim and Damian were born into wealth, Jason and Dick were not. 

“How are you feeling, Dick?” Tim asks as they get off the train and walk down one of Central City’s busy streets. Dick smiles, wraps an arm around Tim’s shoulders. “I’m alright now, things just… Hit me pretty hard I guess, that's how it always goes for me. I feel it all at once.” Dick explains, the smile drops, briefly, but returns when Tim sets an arm around his waist and squeezes. “That is quite alright, Grayson.” Damian says, moving past Jason to walk at Dick’s other side. “What should we get to eat, I assume you and Drake are aware of some vegan establishments?” Dick frowns in response, then pulls out his phone to find a restaurant. Clearly, someone forgot their little brother was a vegan. After a minute, he finds a list and reads suggestions as they walk.

“I uh… Huh, gimme a second.” Jason cuts himself off in the middle of complaining about Dick’s food choices. Something has caught his eye across the street, a flash of green from the display window of a jewelry shop. Jason jogs across the road, getting honked at by the car that he doesn’t notice until he’s passing it. He can hear Tim call his name in confusion, and Dick apologize to the driver.

He pauses at the window, suddenly feeling embarrassed when he realizes what he’s looking at. It’s a ring. A simple, wide silver band with a single emerald placed in the center. “Jason, what was that about… Oh.” Dick’s voice says from beside him. Jason’s face heats up, he can _feel_ Dick grinning at him. Jason is about to make some witty comment, try to cover for the fact that he suddenly wants to buy a ring, _this_ ring, buy it for Roy, ask Roy to marry him, but then a jabbing in his side cuts him off.

It’s Tim, grinning up at him and poking Jason in the ribs with his credit card. Jason glares at him, Tim’s not helping the whole _walk away and pretend this never happened_ plan, neither are Dick and Damian, they’ve totally boxed him in against the display case. Jason groans, blushes even more, and takes Tim’s credit card. Dick starts cheering, and even _Damian_ is smiling a little. Jason desperately hopes the walls of the jewelry shop will be thick enough to block them out.

The shop’s clerk is very nice, though she does unfortunately ask who the ‘celebration party’ outside is. Jason sighs, glaring at them through the glass, Dick is giving him two thumbs-up, Tim is grinning, and Damian is still smirking a little. “They’re my family, unfortunately.” Jason admits. The clerk helps him with the ring, and Jason judges its fit off of his own hands. Roy’s fingers are long and thin, good for archery, the ring is too small for Jason, but that means it will fit Roy. Jason suddenly has the uncomfortably intimate realization that he knows the size of someone's _fingers._

The ring is handed to Jason in a dark green velvet box that he protectively shoves in his pocket. He pays for it with Tim’s forcefully offered credit card, having to forge Tim’s signature on the receipt, and runs out of the shop before he can have an epiphany-based breakdown.

Dick starts cheering again when Jason walks out, because apparently Jason just _thinking_ about proposing to his boyfriend is the best thing to ever happen to Dick. Jason groans when Dick hugs him, thankfully Tim and Damian stay out of it and he’s able to wrangle Dick off of him. “Dick, I bought it. That doesn’t mean I’m going to _use_ it.” Jason says defensively. Dick pulls back, not looking at all convinced. He reaches up and ruffles Jason’s hair, then walks past him, calling over his shoulder: “Whatever you say Littlewing! _Whatever_ you say!”

Jason spends the rest of the afternoon wondering why he was excited to spend it with his brothers. Dick keeps smiling at him in a far too sweet manner, and Tim looks very smug. Jason’s reached the point where he’s mystified as to why he cared about Dick’s mental health, and ready to shove Tim in front of a car, when Damian _finally_ suggests they head back to Gotham. 

When they arrive back at the Manor, Damian actually did ride with Jason again, they are greeted by Princess Koriand’r and Roy. Kori rises with all her usual alien grace from the steps and floats down to hug Jason. “Hi, Kori.” He says, hugging her right back. Damian and Tim slide by and into the house, though they both offer her some greeting. Dick starts to move by them, face pinched in thought, but Kori stops him.

“Dick.” Kori says, finally setting both feet on the ground but still being taller than him. “Roy explained what happened to me, are you feeling better now?” She asks. He stares at her, and for a moment Jason wonders if this interaction is going to go south, then Dick softens. Dick reaches out and takes her hand, gives it a squeeze. “Thanks for checking on me, Kori. I’m alright. Just needed a day, y'know?” He explains.

Kori smiles, brushes some hair out of Dick’s face. _Well,_ now Jason feels more like he’s interrupting than waiting for an explosion. “Yes, I remember your habits. I’m glad to hear Wally helped you.” Kori says. Dick seems to remember his place, looks away from her and gives Jason an awkward smile, then leaves the Outlaw trio alone on the steps. 

Jason pushes down the odd flash of guilt he feels while watching Dick go. These two, Roy and Kori, used to be _Dick’s_ friends. It’s not that they aren’t anymore, but they’re closer to Jason now. Kori snaps Jason out of his thoughts by taking his hands and pulling him up the steps so they can sit by Roy. Jason sits on the step one below his boyfriend, Kori one above, and Roy grins at them both. For a moment they just sit, looking at each other, then Kori laughs, bright and loud, and Jason and Roy join in. 

Roy leans his head back against one of Kori’s knees and smiles up at her. She shifts her leg to be a better pillow for him and runs her fingers through his hair, picking up a few of the ginger locks and starting to braid them. “Kori, have I told you yet that I’ve _really_ missed you?” Roy asks. Uncertainty bubbles up in Jason, memories swirling around in his mind of those months of them together, Roy and Kori were much more of a couple then than _Jason_ and Roy were. 

Kori laughs at Roy’s comment, and Roy sticks one of his legs in Jason’s lap to make him a part of the cuddle pile. Jason glances up at him, realizes Roy is staring at him and smiling, and chides himself internally for thinking the way he was. Roy loves Kori, of course he does, so does Jason, but that doesn’t mean Roy wants to be _with_ her. Jason suddenly remembers the ring in his pocket, looks back up to Roy _still_ smiling at him, and Jason realizes he’s got nothing to be worried about.


	18. Duke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are some imperfections in this chapter, I was stuck on it for so long. The beginning and end of it sat in a Google Doc for literal months, and eventually I just speed-wrote the middle, hopefully it's not too bad!
> 
> Also, I'm so sorry for the long hiatus with this, life and writer's block happen!

Duke didn’t expect anything when he lost his parents. He was 15, nearly 16, when they died, so he figured he’d just deal with the foster system until he was old enough to emancipate himself. He never anticipated finding a new family, he didn’t really want to. Bruce Wayne changed that, Damian Wayne changed that.

Duke met the former Robins through the We Are Robin movement, but it was Damian who he actively befriended, and Damian who eventually softened to the idea of Duke being a hero. It  _ was  _ Damian’s approval that Duke really needed, he was Bruce’s biological son  _ and  _ the real Robin. 

When Bruce first offered to legally adopt Duke, he covered up the affectionate offer with logic. He was right, it would be much easier to train with him if he lived in the Manor, and Bruce had the resources, but Duke still hesitated. Jason, of all people, was the one to convince Duke to take the offer. “I don’t like Bruce. You know that, but I still think you should say yes.” Jason had said, smoking a cigarette while they sat side-by-side on a Gotham rooftop. “He wouldn’t offer if he didn’t care, and didn’t want to help you. He’s probably not going to be a good dad, and don’t expect anything from him, but he wants you as a part of the family… I think we all do.”

Duke doesn’t always feel like he’s  _ really  _ a part of the family. He joined a group of people with a long history between them, their relationships are intricate and confusing and Duke doesn’t always understand them all. Duke goes back and forth on how he sees them all, Dick acts like such an older brother that Duke can’t help but see him that way, Jason and Tim feel more like close friends, and Damian like an annoying younger brother. Cass, in Duke’s mind, is a sister in every way that counts. 

Duke once tentatively called Bruce ‘Dad,’ and it led to Bruce having a cautious sitdown conversation with him. Bruce explained that while he loves Duke like a son, Duke doesn’t need to see him as or call him ‘dad,’ and that Bruce wouldn’t be hurt if Duke never saw him that way, because Bruce understood that Duke  _ had  _ a dad. Bruce patted his head and hugged him tight when they were done talking, and Duke had to resist crying into his shoulder. 

Duke doesn’t really see Selina as a mother. Sure, she’s a  _ very  _ cool lady, and he likes her, but she’s not his mom. He doesn’t hesitate, however, to go to her that night before patrol for help with his boots. His injured leg is still a little sore, and putting on his boots is uncomfortable because of it. Duke watches his family while Selina tightens his boots for him. Dick and Damian are already out the door, Bruce is giving princess Koriand’r instructions on how to patrol Gotham, and Jason is imitating Bruce’s monologue to make Tim giggle.

Duke manages not to jump when Cass wraps an arm around him from behind. “Ready?” She asks, patting his shoulder. Duke looks to Selina for approval, and she nods. So they head out, Duke feeling a rush of excitement because he’s patrolling with Cass  _ and  _ Steph. Cass sits behind him on his bike, arms around his torso, and Steph leads the way on her own bike.

Patrol that night starts out so uneventful it’s almost boring. They stop a mugging, well,  _ Cass  _ stops a mugging. She creeps up right behind the criminal and says “boo!” in his ear. Expectedly, he drops the purse he was trying to steal and runs. They let him go, if he’s that much of an ametuer that a simple scare can send him running, then they don’t need to worry about him.

It’s Cass who notices something suspicious on their final run through Crime Alley. She stops, looks to their sides, then breaks ranks and swings across the street and in a nearby open window. Steph looks at Duke, and he just shrugs, so they follow Cass.

Duke climbs in the window last. He is met with Cass and Steph’s backs turned to him. It takes a moment, but his eyes quickly adjust to the darkness of the room and he sees what Cass and Steph are staring at. Hanging by his neck from the ceiling is the mugger they stopped not half an hour ago.

“Is he?” Duke asks, Cass nods, clenching her fists at her sides. “He’s dead.” Steph confirms, touching the young man’s neck for his pulse just in case. Steph steps back, arms crossed over her chest as she looks around the room. “This just happened.” Steph mutters.

Duke nods, giving the room his own scan. “We  _ just  _ saw him, I don’t-” He freezes, staring at the window. Duke still doesn’t fully understand his powers, they don’t always work when he wants them to, and sometimes he can’t even tell what he’s supposed to be seeing, but now the light is clear. He can see, through the lights and shadows in the room when this man died, three figures crawling out the window and then directly upward. 

“I don’t what?” Steph asks, poking his arm. Duke shakes his head, snapping himself out of his daze. “The roof, they’re on the roof!” He says, already headed for the location himself. The girls follow him without question, and they all grapple to the roof.

“M-mother?” Cass whispers, the first to reach the rooftop and see who’s there to meet them. True to Cass’s reaction, Lady Shiva is standing at the center of the rooftop, backed by the three assassins Duke saw leave the apartment. “Hello, Cassandra.” Shiva says, not bothering to crack a smile for her daughter. “How are you? Have you been training?” The assassin continues.

Steph shakes her head, crouching into an attack position. “Are you kidding!? You just  _ killed  _ a  _ kid  _ and you’re gonna ask about training!?” She shouts, waving her arms to emphasize her point. Shiva sighs, shaking her head and waving her hand to call her followers into action. “Enough of your mouth.” Shiva chides. “Silence them.” Then the assassins charge. Cass runs right between their three attackers for her mother, and Duke jumps back so he and Steph are back to back, both prepared to defend themselves.

Duke has seen Cass fight more times than he can count. What he rarely sees, however, is Cass having to put effort into it. Against one opponent, assuming she’s not sparring with Bruce or Dick who can usually hold their own against her, Cass is usually a quick worker who reads who she is fighting and takes them down quickly and deftly. Against Shiva, however, Cass’s chest heaves when she breathes, and her attacks get blocked on after another. Duke is also not used to seeing Cass get hit, so when Shiva plants her foot in Cass’s middle and sends her flying, Duke doesn't process fast enough to get out of the way.

Cass slams into Duke’s chest and sends them both tumbling. He manages to get his arms around her to shield her as they roll across the rooftop. They finish rolling with Cass over him, she pushes herself up immediately and gives him a guilty look. “I am-” Cass starts, but Duke shakes his head. “Sorry, I am too, but I’m not hurt.” Duke assures her. Cass stands and turns to glare at Shiva, while Duke wearily pushes himself into a sitting position.

On a look from Shiva, the three assassins pinning Stephanie release her, and she scrambles across the rooftop to Duke and Cass. Duke takes Steph’s offered hands and she pulls him to his feet. “Okay, can you  _ please  _ do a super-villain monologue? Because I’d really like an explanation for why my everything hurts right now.” Steph calls, sounding rather exasperated but still pleased with her own sense of humor. 

Shiva doesn’t spare Steph a glance, her eyes are only for Cass. “Daughter, would you like me to explain my presence here?” Shiva asks. Duke wishes he could see more of Cass’s face, read her thoughts and emotions at least somewhat, instead he just has to hope she’s okay. Cass nods, slow and tense, and Shiva’s body language relaxes slightly.

“I like to check on you, as you know.” Shiva begins, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have improved since last we battled. Who taught you to initiate a flip while you dodge?” Shiva asks, she sounds genuinely curious, and rather proud of Cass. 

“Nightwing.” Cass answers after a pause. She seems unsure, like she’s not allowed to share any information with Shiva, even if it’s an answer Shiva likely could have predicted. Shiva nods, considering. Duke wonders if she disapproves. She doesn’t seem to, but then again, her expression is hard to read.

“Why are you here?” Steph growls, clearly getting annoyed with being ignored. Shiva finally looks at her, then tucks the blades she was carrying into their holsters at her hips. “I was simply fulfilling my duty and visiting my daughter. I recommend you all run home now, I’m sure the Riddler has had plenty of time to finish his side of our arrangement.” 

Steph and Duke share a look of confusion behind Cass, but before either of them can ask, Cass is turning around. “Orphan?” Duke asks, nervously turning his back on Shiva to follow her. Cass grabs his shoulder and shakes it. “Not Riddler, Joker. We go now.” Cass says, her voice sharp. Duke immediately rushes to follow her, as does Steph. 

Roaring back towards the cave on their motorcycles, Duke and Cass listen as Steph relays their encounter across the comms. It doesn’t serve Duke’s nerves at all well as they receive no response from Tim, Jason, and Starfire. Well, at least not until they’re driving into the cave. Then they finally get a crackle over the comms and Tim’s shaky voice saying: “Hello, everyone? This is Red Robin. Please tell me someone has seen Harley Quinn recently.”


	19. Tim

By the time Koriand’r takes Lian off his hands, Tim is close to deciding he never wants kids. Sure, Lian is just about the cutest thing he’s ever seen, but he can only come up with so many different covers for what he’s working on.  _ I’m trying to make your dad’s stupid helmet actually useful  _ Tim wants to say, but snapping at her would make her sad. Okay, fine. Tim’s not  _ that  _ mad to have Lian perched on his knee, calling him “Uncle Tim” before she says anything to him. 

“Should she be seeing that?” Kori asks, referencing Jason’s helmet as she strides into Tim’s room. Tim spins in his chair, picking Lian up off his legs by her underarms and holding her out to Kori. “I don’t know honestly, but she walked in before I could hide it.” Tim explains with a shrug. Kori sets Lian on her hip, and they smile at each other. Tim sneaks his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture, he’ll send it to Jason later. 

Kori sets Lian down. “Lian, go downstairs to see your fathers. It is almost time for dinner.” Kori tells her. Lian grins, gives Tim a little wave and goes running out of the room. Tim smiles at Kori saying ‘fathers,’ calling both Roy and Jason Lian’s parents. Tim stands and walks over to her, lifting a hand to cup his face as though he’s going to tell her a secret. Kori beams, and leans close to him. “Jay tell you that he bought a ring today?” Tim asks.

Kori gasps, lifting off the ground in her excitement. “This is grand news!” She cries, gripping Tim’s arms and giving him a shake that nearly picks him up. Tim needs to get more friends who aren’t dangerously strong… “Oh! And more news! Your father agreed to allow me to patrol with you and Jason!” Tim just has to grin when she says that. It’s been a long time since he spent time with the Teen Titans, or time with Kori. Patrol with the princess and his brother? That  _ does  _ sound good.

Hours later, Jason comments: “Y’know Kori, the fact that you literally  _ glow  _ makes this a lot easier.” He’s right, Tim and Jason would be wandering rather blindly in this sewer if it weren’t for Kori’s glowing hair and luminous skin. The princess beams at Jason, her fiery-hair brightening under his praise. The three of them pause, they’re standing at the junction of three sewer pipes.

Tim presses on his comm unit. “Oracle? Next turn?” He asks. They wait, and the silence stretches out. Kori floats down and pokes the hair away from Tim’s ear, looking at the communication device. “Did we lose connection?” Jason asks. Kori pulls back from Tim’s head, shrugging as if to say she can see nothing wrong with the comm. Tim groans, Gotham sewers seem to have the magical ability to knock out many of their comms. 

“We’ll just have to split up.” Jason says with a shrug. “The comms should still work for us, since we’re all down here.” Tim nods at him. He doesn’t like it, and he’s sure Jason doesn’t either. Splitting up is the last thing they should be doing with The Joker threatening them, but they don’t have a choice. “You and Kori head down that way, I’ll take the other path. We walk until we find a crossroads or dead end, or whatever caused this power outage, check in if you do.” Tim tells them. Jason nods, and Kori floats to his side. Tim likes that about Jason, he knows his older brother is protective of him, but Jason also whole-heartedly trusts Tim and his abilities, he’s not going to protest Tim heading off on his own. 

Tim heads down his designated path, listening to Kori and Jason’s conversation grow quieter as they head the other way. He keeps his flashlight out ahead of him, not that it helps him see all that much, Kori was lighting the way before. Tim never really thought about the fact that many of Gotham’s major sewer and subway lines have lights in them, but now he’s missing the lights that have been mysteriously turned off. That’s why he, Jason, and Kori are out here anyway, the GCPD reported an unexplained power outage around the subways, meaning trains could be moving blind, which is a disaster waiting to happen.

Tim keeps track of both his and Jason and Kori’s turns on the tiny computer affixed to his wrist, that way they can get back without concern for getting lost. It’s that list that makes Tim realize he hasn’t heard from them in awhile, his list of directions is getting longer and longer, but Jason’s has stalled. Tim presses on the comm unit in his ear. “Hood? Starfire? You two alright?” He asks, voice echoing off the sewer’s low walls. Tim waits, and feels a sharp stab of anxiety when he gets no response. He forces himself to stay calm, tries them a few more times, then turns around.  _ Logically, they’d all head back if we lost contact, right?  _ Tim assures himself. He gets barely ten steps back the way he came before something clicks, and then scrapes, and the floor drops out from under him.

The fall isn’t very far, too short of a time for Tim to react with his grappling hook, and the base of the pit he falls into is filled with shallow water. Tim lands on his feet and one hand, narrowly managing to spread out his weight and not get injured. Slowly, he stands and tries to look around. The water is knee deep, and it smells awful, plus after a minute of paying attention to it, Tim realizes it’s climbing up his body. The night-vision for his mask is on, but it’s so dark here that it’s only sort of working. He takes a shot with his grapple-gun, but the cord just clangs against something above his head and almost hits him when it falls back down. “Alright,  _ fine!”  _ Tim shouts to whoever put him in this pit. “Give me your master plan! How do I get out of here!?”

“Hello, Red Robin… Riddle me this.” A voice echoes in his ears. For a moment Tim thinks Riddler’s voice is coming from his comm, but the volume of it proves him wrong. “What belongs to you, but is used by others?” The Riddler asks. 

Tim pauses, then snickers. “Uh, my toothbrush? My bed? I have siblings, Nigma, everything I own is fair game to them.” He responds. He can hear the Riddler stutter in annoyance, and more water rushes into the cell. “Hey! Play fair Nigma! I’m not  _ wrong.”  _ Tim snaps, waving his finger and hoping he can actually be seen and isn’t just acting totally insane. The Riddler sighs in defeat, and Tim’s comm comes roaring back to life as the villain stops blocking the signal.

“Red Robin!?” That’s Kori, loud and frantic in his ear. Tim quickly turns down the volume. “What’s wrong, Starfire?” He asks. It takes her longer to answer than he’d like, and he can hear her energy blasts in the background of the call. “Jason and I got split up, I-I’m not sure where he is, and something from the shadows attacked me.” Her voice goes hard as she speaks and regains her composure. “Additionally, a light turned on just before you answered.”

Tim nods, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he puts together The Riddler’s scheme. “Is that it, Nigma?” Tim asks the room. “A riddle for a light?” The Riddler answers him by presenting him with another puzzle.

That is how the next fifteen or so minutes go. Tim solving riddles, and Kori affirming that a new light has turned on everytime he does. The lights eventually lead her down the subway tracks and to the depot, where Kori then says, anger rising in her voice. “All the trains are accounted for. This was a ploy to distract us, Red Robin.” 

Tim’s blood boils, and he shoots his grappling hook up into the air in his frustration. To his surprise, whatever ceiling his hook struck last time isn’t there anymore, and the hook catches and stabilizes on something above his head. Tim pulls himself up without hesitation. “Red Robin, riddle me this” The Riddler tries, but Tim ignores him in favor of yelling his own question: “Where is my brother!? Where is Red Hood!?”

Tim coughs, covering his mouth with his wrist, he can smell smoke. He turns on the small flashlight attached to his forearm and follows the dim light. At this point Tim is past caution, he has to find Kori. He takes several sharp turns, trying desperately to ignore the questions Riddler keeps firing at him. Finally his feet hit train tracks, and the dim lights of the subway tunnel make him squint. The end of the tunnel is blazing with multicolored fire. 

Tim fumbles with his mask, pulling it from his belt and covering his mouth and nose with it. Kori emerges from the flames, sending more blasts behind her. The fire and smoke pose no danger to her, but Tim’s sure whoever is trying to follow her has been stopped. “Red Robin!” Kori cries when she spots him, she flies to him and practically crashes into him. Kori grips Tim’s arm with one hand, and holds something up to his face with the other. Tim’s heart drops, she’s holding Jason’s jacket. 

The leather jacket feels heavy in Tim’s hands, he pulls it to his chest.  _ Oh god.  _ Tim thinks.  _ Why did I let us split up? I should have known.  _ Kori takes Tim’s face in her hands and forces him to look at her, she says nothing, but the fierce look in her eyes says plenty. Tim doesn’t struggle when she tugs him into her, arm around his waist, his arms around her shoulders. Not the most dignifying thing, being carried by an alien princess, but at this point Tim just wants to be above ground. 

Tim isn’t quite sure how Kori finds her way back up to Gotham’s streets, but she does. Kori sets him on a curb rather delicately, and takes Jason’s jacket back to look at it. Tim pulls the comm unit from his ear and fiddles with it, trying to get a signal. He lets out a sigh of relief when he catches the tail end of one of Oracle’s transmissions, and Dick’s response. 

Kori clears her throat, she pulls something from one of the jacket’s pockets. “What is it?” Tim asks. Kori shakes her head, holding the note up to read it. “It is a riddle, but not much of one: ‘What do you make a clown suit out of?”’ Kori reads, then she flips the note over and arches an eyebrow. “‘Poly-Jester!’” Kori tosses the note aside, frustrated with Jason’s disappearance and what she sees as a lack of answers. Tim pauses and thinks about it, he doubts Nigma wrote that one, the answer isn’t a real word, too comedic for Nigma… 

Tim straightens, then he frantically presses buttons on his comm. “Hello, everyone? This is Red Robin. Please tell me someone has seen Harley Quinn recently.”


	20. Jason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have now entered what I call "Part Two" to this story, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, I really love receiving comments so please feel free to give me feedback!

_ Ow. Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuckity, fuck.  _ Jason’s thought process right now is just a mantra of pain. He can’t make himself look at his left leg, since bile rises in his throat at the site of his kneecap that is very much  _ not  _ in the right place. Jason can admit that fighting the big, burly guards sent to check on him, while still half-tied up, was not his smartest choice, and now he’s suffering through the consequences. 

Jason uses his good leg to slide himself across the padded floor to one of the walls, then leans back against it with another groan of pain. Joker put him in one of those padded-cells for crazy people, but since Jason is only  _ slightly  _ crazy, he’s able to appreciate how sitting on the cell floor doesn’t hurt his ass.

Jason huffs out a breath and forces himself to start extending his leg, trying to remember the steps Bruce walked him through as Robin. He freezes at the sound of his cell door opening, and then a voice speaking. “Hey, Hoodie. Let me.” Harley Quinn says as one of Joker’s  _ Big Burly Guards  _ _ TM  _ __ pushes her into the cell. Once the guard has released his grip on her, and shut the door behind them, Harley comes and kneels at Jason’s side.

Harley reaches out and pats the top of Jason’s head, touching his white streaks of hair in a curious way. “I like the skunk-hair.” She says, insulting him with the terminology, but sounding so genuine that he knows she’s actually being nice. Jason wonders vaguely, too in pain to  _ actually  _ think or ask, if Harley realizes he’s the 2nd Robin, the one whose death she played a part in. He doesn’t have his helmet right now, and is instead wearing a domino mask, which he supposes might make him look more Robin-ish. 

Jason lets out a sharp “holy  _ shit!”  _ when Harley slides his kneecap back into place. He was so lost in his thoughts, and the debilitating pain, that he didn’t fully realize she was even working on his injury. Jason meets Harley’s eyes once he can process again. He thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he should hate her like he does the Joker, she’s part of the reason he died after all, but he just…  _ can’t.  _ Love is the strongest, most manipulative emotion there is, what Harley did for Joker? A man who she loved that used her, that twisted her mind and abused her body? Jason can’t blame her for any of it. 

“Thank you.” Jason murmurs. Harley gives him a weak smile before turning and sitting against the wall. They sit side by side, her just close enough for their arms to brush. It makes Jason’s heart clench, because the touch makes him think of Tim. “Hey, it’s the least I could do.” Harley tells him, the flash of recognition in her eyes.  _ Okay, so she does know.  _ Jason realizes. “Y’know, Ives and the Cat-Lady kept telling me to be ready, that I’d never quite be rid of him.” Harley comments, looking at her handcuffs with a sad expression.

“Selina warned me of the same thing.” Jason replies. Harley raises an eyebrow at him, then her expression slowly softens. There it is, something they have in common that isn’t the Joker. “Ya’ think she and the big Bats are gonna come get us?” Harley asks, leaning a little closer to Jason. 

Jason blinks at her, feeling ready to throw up again. Harley’s eyes narrow, then pop open again as she makes the connections. She takes his hand and squeezes it hard. “Sorry sweetie. Of course they’re coming, right? Ivy too.” She says, clearly trying to comfort him. Jason doesn’t pull his hand away, just looks at the wall and tries to fight down the memories of the last time the Joker kidnapped him.

He’d been a reckless 15 year-old last time. Bruce had told him to wait, Dick had told him to be careful, and Alfred had told him to heed both of their advice. He’d listened to none of them. Hadn’t he already paid the price for being a reckless teenager? Why was this happening again?


	21. Roy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this... An update?
> 
> To the lovely people who have left me comments and kudos, or have simply given this story a read, I am so sorry for the delay in this update. Alas, life is life, and school and work have been kicking my butt. I can't promise regular updates, but I can promise that I remember this fic and its readers and will continue to work on it!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, the first from Roy's perspective!

Roy feels like he’s been torn in two when Wally comes to get Lian. A part of Roy wants to hold her close and never let go, but he can’t worry about Jason and be a good dad, well, not without breaking into Wayne Manor’s alcohol supply. 

Lian doesn’t make parting any easier, she squirms when Wally tries to pick her up, and reaches out for Roy just to break his heart some more. She’s just too smart, she  _ knows  _ Roy’s trying to send her off, she knows “bad men” took Jason, and that they’ll hurt him just like they hurt Roy, and she’s crying about how she wants to help. 

Dinah rescues him, springs from the bright green sports car that pulls up behind Wally’s old cover van. Dinah steps between Roy and Wally. The speedster is holding Lian in his arms and looking terrified of her. “Lian. Jason explained to you how connections work, right?” Dinah asks, taking Lian from Wally and setting her down. Dinah crouches in front of her, pinching Lian’s chin between her thumb and fore-finger. “I know you don’t agree, but you being little means you’re in extra danger. That’s why you need to go with Wally, that way the guys who hurt your dad and Jason won’t find you, do you understand?” Dinah is essentially repeating what Roy kept telling her, but Dinah is scarier than Roy, so Lian nods. Slow and begrudging.

Roy can finally breathe when Lian’s gone, even though he already misses her. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” Dinah murmurs, pulling Roy into a hug. Roy buries his face in her blond hair, breathes in the smell of her shampoo. “We came as soon as we heard.” Ollie says, walking around to Roy’s side. Roy pulls away from Dinah and steps back before Ollie can try a hug or whatever else he’s thinking. “You mean, you came as soon as  _ Bruce  _ told you.” Roy growls. He knows being angry really won’t get him anywhere, but Jason’s bristly tendencies are apparently rubbing off on him. 

Dinah glares at him, and Roy shuts his mouth. “That’s not fair and you know it.” Dinah scolds, but her expression softens again rather quickly. She gets Roy’s crutches for him and they go into the Manor. 

“Roy!” Tim hisses, pulling him away from Ollie and Dinah just as they walk in the door. Roy leans close to the younger man to hear them as he’s led away. Roy didn’t bother fighting with Bruce when he learned that Jason was gone, no, he left that to Dick and Damian. Instead he’d followed a guilt-stricken but determined looking Tim up the stairs from the cave. Tim was the smartest of all of them, Bruce himself had admitted that, and he’d been with Jason last, so Roy felt most confident in his abilities to bring Jason back. 

“Did you find Harley?” Roy asks as the 3rd Robin leads him down to the cave. Tim sighs as he shakes his head in a  _ no.  _ “I mean, I found where she  _ isn’t.”  _

“Unfortunately, best bet says they’re somewhere in the old parts of downtown, the areas we don’t have maps of.” Tim explains, booting up the Batcave’s computer once they reach its platform. “Modern Gotham is too well monitored and canvased for Joker to be hiding anyone there, plus he hates it there.” Tim continues. Roy narrows his eyes, if he remembers what Jason has taught him about Gotham, Tim’s theories still have a problem. “Yeah, but isn’t old Gotham Croc’s and Ivy’s territory?” Roy asks.

Tim gives Roy a look that says something between  _ I’m not an idiot _ and  _ Are you an idiot?  _ “Ivy rarely leaves the park, that’s where the Green is at its strongest, and Croc sticks to the sewers, he hasn’t surfaced in weeks.” Tim comments, typing information into the computer at lightning speed. Suddenly, while Roy is still thinking, Tim’s typing stills. “The sewers… I bet that’s where he’s got them.” He murmurs.

“Okay, so sewers, easy enough.” Roy waves one of his crutches in excitement, but Tim stops that with a saddened look. He turns to the computer, and after a moment, brings up a map. It’s of Old Gotham, and shows a few bright yellow lines cutting under the city. Tim points at one of them “These are the main lines, we have full reports of them since they run from New Gotham to Old Gotham.” Tim explains, drawing his finger over the lines as he speaks. “The rest of that grey space is filled with more that we have hardly any information on.”

Roy stares at the ground, feeling like someone has a vice grip on his chest. He is suddenly very aware of how much his body aches, his injured leg especially is crying at the thought of traversing miles of uncharted tunnels. Tim seems to sense his distress, stepping up and resting a hand on Roy’s shoulder. “Hey. What I’ve got here is mostly public record, there’s probably more to be found before anyone has to go sewer-slumming.” Tim tries to joke, it falls flat, but Roy forces a smile for him anyway. 

Tim turns back to the computer, and Roy tries not to think about how bad he misses Jason. He is beyond afraid for him, for all of them. His hurting body is a tangible example of the power the Joker has. Roy shuts his eyes tight, memories of Jason’s scars flashing through his mind. He remembers that island with Kori and Jason. Jason’s tank top getting torn and exposing the twisting burn scars that run across his chest. Kori had comforted him by brushing her fingers over the marks and telling Jason they were stories, not scars. 

_ What a story _ , Roy thinks,  _ a crazy clown and an exploding building.  _ Roy has to get Jason away from him, he can’t let the Joker do something like that again. “Tim.” Roy says suddenly, and a little louder than he means to. The 3rd Robin turns to look at him with an arched brow. “I need you to help me find someone, and I need you to keep quiet about it.” Roy tells him.

Tim’s brows pinch together and he crosses his arms, but he’s smirking in interest. “Who am I finding?” He asks.

“Cheshire. I need you to find Cheshire.” Roy tells him.


End file.
